Glass Bones & Paper Skin
by longforlovers
Summary: When Blaine discovers that he has cancer, the whole world feels like it's tumbling down around him. But Kurt is right there, to get him through every step of the way.
1. Until it Kills

**I should start putting these little author's notes at the top aha.**

**Why hello. This is the first time I've written like a series so take pity on me ;) I've only written this so far to see how it rolls.**

**This story is about an illness that a lot of people seem to be, understandably, sensitive about so this is a warning.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

**Glass Bones & Paper Skin**

**Chapter one: Until it Kills**

* * *

Kurt realised something was terribly wrong when he noticed that Blaine just couldn't keep up in rehearsals any more.

For anyone else, this wouldn't have been odd. Rehearsals were tough, especially with Wes breathing down your neck every two seconds when you sung a syllable wrong or if your little finger moved when it shouldn't have done. It's nothing abnormal. But Blaine always kept up; Blaine was always the star of the show. He sung every note perfectly, moved every single limb in time to the beat, that show stopping smile that could probably make baby unicorns cry at the sight alone fixed in place for every single second. When performing, Blaine Anderson was flawless. Until now. And Kurt was the only one who sensed that something just wasn't right.

First of all, Blaine looked tired. And that was just bad news within itself because Kurt knew that he was the type to start getting ready for bed at 10 o'clock to get a good's night sleep. If there was something that Blaine Anderson liked, it was sleeping. _You can't concentrate with a tired mind_, he'd say. And waking him up was like stirring a grizzly bear: if you wanted to keep your head attached to its neck, then don't wake Blaine.

_Have you been up late playing video games, Blaine? You've been up texting that new boy at Dalton again, haven't you? We shouldn't have bought that TV for your bedroom last Christmas. Why are you tired, Blaine?_

_No, I haven't, mom. No, mom. It's not him, it's not the games, it's not the TV. I don't know, Mom, I've been sleeping fine. I just don't feel right._

_Maybe we should take you to the doctor's, Blaine..._

Then there was the vomiting and the nausea and the moments when he had to stop during a dance routine or even during one of the Warblers' infamous impromptu performances and run to the bathroom to throw up his insides and rest his sweaty cheek against the cold tiled floor as his body shook. Kurt would follow him at times like this and rub his back in a motherly way, trying to ignore every prominent bump of Blaine's spine beneath his fingers, whispering comforting words inside his ear that he was going to be okay.

_It's my son, Blaine. He just doesn't seem right these days. There's this lump and he's losing a lot of weight... I think something's seriously wrong._

But it was definitely the times when Blaine had to stop and rest during dance numbers because he just couldn't keep up with everyone else, panting heavily, brow shiny with sweat. He tried to blow everyone off with stupid little excuses, eyes lowered to the ground in fear that anyone found out or guessed his secret just due to his eyes.

"The moves are too complicated, I can't keep up."

"It's a little hot in here, I just feel a bit dizzy."

"I didn't have lunch today."

Or even those times when it was time for his solos and his voice would crack and he just couldn't _do_ it.

"I've got a sore throat. I'll be okay in time for regionals. I promise."

Everyone lapped up his words because this was Blaine after all, truthful Blaine Warbler who wouldn't lie to them. But Kurt wasn't stupid and he always kept Blaine in his sights, knitting his brows together as he watched the broken boy bend forward, bracing his hands on his knees as if he'd just reached the end of the London Marathon, or folding his arms across his chest whenever Blaine leant against the wall for support, to take a shaky deep breathe or two, head thrown back with his eyes closed, long dark lashes brushing his cheeks.

_Looking back over your test results, Blaine, I'm afraid that I've got some very bad news..._

Blaine had managed to fool everyone else, but he certainly wasn't fooling Kurt.

* * *

It was a cold December afternoon and Wes slammed his gavel down loudly, signalling the end of the meeting. The rest of the boys chatted animatedly, surging towards the doors, the prospect of a warm dinner and a night in front of the television at home sounding rather welcoming. From across the room, Kurt watched Blaine struggle to push himself up from the sofa he had settled in, sweat dotting his brow as usual, fingers scrambling at the arm to pull himself up.

Kurt crossed the room and held out a pale hand, his chest aching from seeing his best friend inability to cope with even the simplest of tasks these days. Blaine was the strong one out of them both and seeing Blaine physically breaking apart and coming undone at the seams in front of his eyes killed him inside. Blinking like a deer caught in headlights, Blaine glanced at the outstretched hand in front of him, up into Kurt's dazzling blue eyes, a smile playing upon his lips as he pressed his palm into Kurt's light skin, pushing himself to his feet, knees trembling too obviously for Kurt not to see.

He had also noticed how dead Blaine's eyes looked compared to their usual sparkle and the purple marks underneath. Blain winced as he put his weight on the floor, visibly in pain but grin still stuck in place. He was the strong one out of him and Kurt, the one who stood tall these days to make up for the time that he had ran with his tail between his legs. And he had worked too long and too hard to show weakness. He gripped onto Kurt's hand harder for support, the younger boy noticing how it felt as if Blaine had no muscle or fat upon his fingers any more.

They felt like bone. Pure bone. Skin and bones.

He didn't say anything. His interrogation would happen later and it had to be gentle because Blaine looked like he could break at any moment. Fragile like glass and tissue paper. That's all Blaine seemed to be made out of these days.

And bone. Lots and lots of bone.

Kurt made sure Blaine was steady upon his feet before walking with him towards the huge oak doors, leaving their fingers tangled together. The limp that Blaine had seemed to have developed seemed more prominent today and Kurt walked slowly in silence to keep pace with his best friend. Maybe this was worse than initially thought.

Next stop, the Lima Bean. Commence Operation Interrogate Blaine Anderson.

* * *

"Blaine, there's something you're not telling me."

Blaine's grip tightened around the cup of coffee settled upon the table in front of him, the writing on the side of it suddenly becoming very interesting so he doesn't have to make contact with that dazzling blue gaze from across the table. The knots in his stomach also tightened, his heart doing the quick step within his chest. _So Kurt had noticed... maybe he wasn't so good at this 'strength' thing after all._ Kurt couldn't know. This was Blaine's secret. Only his parents and himself knew. They hadn't even broken the news to his little sister Lily yet. Why share the heartache with her too? This was Blaine's pain and Blaine's alone.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Blaine unleashed that smouldering look upon Kurt that he knew just drove him crazy, in hopes to just distract him and make him_drop this_. He'd done so well at hiding everything from the Warblers, so hard from his Grandparents when they came over for Sunday lunch, so hard from his sister and his teachers and _especially_ Kurt because, as much as he didn't like to admit it, his love for the boy was no longer platonic. But Kurt needed strength, care and friendship, not love, rough kisses and fumbling hands. He just cared too much to tell Kurt what was up. This would break Kurt. And if he had to see Kurt break, he would surely follow, causing the walls that he had built up, to stop the flood of fear, pain and hurt, crumble down. Blaine just couldn't let that happen.

He had managed to stay strong so far. Even if he was only made out glass and tissue paper. And bone. Lots and lots of bone.

"Don't play stupid. You know what I'm talking about. Something's up and you're hiding it from me... we're meant to best friends, Blaine," Kurt leaned back in his seat, crossing one long slender leg over the over, a disapproving look fixed upon his features. It was always that disappointed look that got to Blaine, making him feel sick right down to his stomach.

"We are! I just... it's nothing. There's nothing wrong." _It's something. It's a very big something. And_ everything's _wrong. If I tell you, I don't think you'd be able to cope with the weight of it. Let me just keep this to myself. Please, Kurt._

"Yes. There is. _Please_ stop insulting my intelligence, Blaine. I've been watching you. I've seen you struggling. Just don't lie to me when I full on _know_ that something's up. I'm always honest with you. Whatever's wrong, I can be there, I can help. I promise. I care about you. Trust me."

The smile that followed this small speech made the first crack in Blaine's heart.

"It's not that I don't trust you. It just doesn't matter. And I don't need you worrying on top of that. Now, just drop it, please." Blaine looked sadly up into Kurt's eyes, trying to tell him with his eyes alone that he was sorry that he couldn't tell him, that it was for more Kurt's sake than his own, that he couldn't even bring himself to say the words out loud.

Kurt's smile slipped, clearly not reading the message in the boy across the table's eyes, his knuckles growing whiter as his grip on the table tightened, the volume of his voice rising. "Don't need me worrying? Don't need me worrying? I'M ALREADY SICK WITH WORRY, BLAINE. I'm watching you fall apart and you won't even _tell_ me what's up, when I can fully 100% see that this isn't 'nothing' and it really is 'something' yet you won't even confide in your best friend! What is wrong with you?"

At this, Blaine saw red, like a curtain slowly sliding down in front of his sight, hands beginning to shake. _What's wrong with me? You wouldn't want to know, Kurt. Trust me, you wouldn't want to know. I'm doing this for your own well being too and you're taking it as a personal insult?_

"I'm not doing this to spite you, Kurt, believe it or not. But I'm doing this _for_ you. I'm trying to get my head around it as it is and you're already jumping on my back because of it. Just let me _breathe_, Kurt. Let me understand for myself. But I need you step back and realise that yeah, maybe I want to keep things to myself. Maybe there are things that _must_ be kept to myself. And this is one of those things. So what's _wrong_ with me is my problem. I know you care and I know you're trying to help but just lay off. Let me breathe." Blaine rose from the table, pushing the chair back shakily with the backs of his knees. He was angry. He was frustrated. He was tired. He was in so much fucking _pain_. And when he used that tone of voice, it was so much worse than when he shouted. Just like when his parents turned to him when he first came out all of those years ago and said "we're not angry, we're _disappointed_."

So much for gentle interrogation. "Look, Blaine. I'm not finished..." Kurt slid his hand across the table as if to reach for Blaine but he was already walking away...

"I am."

Why couldn't Kurt just drop this? This wasn't his life, this wasn't his _body_...

_Maybe I shouldn't have been so harsh... he's only trying to look out for me. But I'm trying to look out for him too..._

_This would kill him. But not if it doesn't kill me first._


	2. All the Strength I Had is Gone

**Oh hello, I will definitely write author's notes now. Thought I'd post this before bed because I need something to cheer me up as it's my birthday and got the bad news that my model for my photography exam has cancelled on me at 10pm the night before which is not cool. Trying to chill myself out by posting aha.**

**Soooooo hello to all! Thank you for even bothering to read my story so far, I am flattered! Thank you for everyone who has favourited my story and opted for story alerts and even author alerts which I find amazing, you're all brilliant.**

**I'm sorry if this chapter is a flop and a total disappointment. I'm sorry if the story is so far. I'm trying, okay! I've never written a multi-chaptered fic so this is new to me aha.**

**Please stop speculating though guys! If there's character death, there's character death. If there's not, there's not. I'm afraid that the story will roll in whichever way I see fit and I don't even know how it's going to turn out 100% so far so don't worry :)**

**Thank you again guys. I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

**Glass Bones & Paper Skin**

**Chapter two: All the Strength I Had is Gone**

* * *

"Blaine... please..."

Ignoring Kurt in the corridors had become a regular occurrence this week. Blaine would shrug off Kurt's hand on his shoulder, shrink away from the brush of his fingertips against his upper arm and pretend to not see the younger boy staring at him intently as they passed one another in the long hallways of the school. Blaine was in no position to be pushing people away, especially Kurt and, despite everything he'd decided against, he was certainly hurting him. But Blaine was _scared_. He just needed a chance to breathe.

So he just passed by Kurt again, not even bothering to raise his eyes from his feet as the boy called out his name and carried on towards Latin class, hands clenched onto the strap of his bag like a lifeline. _I'm sorry, Kurt, but I'm not ready... not yet..._

Kurt watched him disappear down the end of the corridor and sunk down onto the window seat, looking out the window into the vast grounds of Dalton Academy. Blaine said that he didn't want him to worry... well, what the hell was he doing right now? Kurt wanted to sort this, wanted to understand what was wrong with his best friend but how could he do that if Blaine just pushed him away?

_Maybe I should just give him time to clear his head._

* * *

"You can't carry on like this, Blaine."

Lunchtime in the dinner hall and, not that Blaine had enough on his plate as it was, he was now getting the daily lecture from Wes and David. Blaine hadn't sat with Kurt at lunch for the whole week and had tagged along with the rest of the Warblers, who'd noticed that they were having a 'lover's tiff' ("We're not dating!" Blaine had managed to splutter out to unconvinced raised eyebrows and smirks). But then again, he hadn't even seen Kurt in the dinner hall since that argument in the coffee shop. And all along he'd said that he didn't want to hurt his best friend... what a good job he'd done. _Such a great fucking friend I am._

"We are talking about Kurt and I, right?" Blaine enquired, slowly pushing his food around with his fork on his plate. He didn't bother eating much these days. He'd only be throwing it up an hour later and it was just easier to cut out the middle man and not eat in the first place. So he was unsure of what Wes was getting at. Was this about their argument? Or had Wes finally noticed that Blaine just wasn't well?

"Yes, I'm talking about you and Kurt... but now that you mention that it could be something else... what's up? You've been acting funny for a while now." Wes asked softly, David slowly pulling the fork out of Blaine's grasp and laying it down upon the table to capture his upmost attention.

"Don't even go there. This is why Kurt and I have fallen out... I don't need you both starting now."

"So it must be something pretty big if you won't tell us... stop hiding things from everyone, Blaine. We have a right to know." David jumped in, leaning closer to Blaine and getting too closely into his face until it seemed as if Blaine could see every single pore upon his skin.

"Just get _out_ of my face! I don't need this!" he shouted out, kicking his chair backwards and pushing his uneaten food across the table. He didn't care that he looked like a stubborn little child that wasn't getting his own way in the candy store as he stormed down the aisle between the tables, towards the doors that led off into the wintery chill outside. His brave face was crumbling away every day and every confrontation was making him fall apart. Bit. By. Bit.

Blaine paused to lean against the brick wall a couple of buildings down from the dinner hall, trying to get away from the stares of his fellow pupils. Wiping the back of his hand against his sweaty forehead, he sighed. _This isn't going to plan. I'm hurting Kurt, I'm hurting myself, I'm hurting everyone around me. And what happened to staying strong? What happened to courage?_

Courage... courage...

Step one to getting stronger again: fix things.

_Now, if I were Kurt Hummel, where would I be hiding?_

* * *

A sweet melody rung out down the empty corridor as Blaine wandered towards the music room, where one of Dalton's many grand pianos was situated. He knew that music had always been Kurt's release when things got too much for him and it hadn't been the first time that Kurt had hidden himself away with just his voice and that piano, singing all of his troubles away.  
Blaine could tell that this song was about him and the shit that he'd put Kurt through recently, the knife of guilt embedded in his gut twisting painfully as the younger boy's beautiful song drifted through the school. It wasn't any music that Blaine recognised himself.

He peered through the gap of the polished oak doors, able to see a tiny sliver of Kurt at the piano, hands moving gracefully over the keys, softly singing to himself, not loud enough to pinpoint exact words. Opening the door a little wider, Blaine entered the room without him noticing and approached the piano, the music wrapping them in a protective little bubble that no one could penetrate, not even Blaine's little... _problem_. It was just them and the music. Kurt jumped as Blaine slid onto the stool beside him but didn't stop playing, a wary smile on his face as he studied Blaine's. When he smiled in return, Kurt's shoulders relaxed and he turned back to the piano, eyes slightly closed.

The song was a beautiful heartbreaking tune, Blaine able to feel pain streaming from every single one of Kurt's pores. Blaine could feel it as if it were a physical being with a solid structure and he felt his chest ache as he watched Kurt's gentle fingers dance... Earning the second crack in Blaine's heart.

The music eventually slowed and the last note rang out around the room. Kurt remained still, body facing forward, incapable of words to say to Blaine, even though he'd spent the week memorizing them word perfectly inside his mind, until it seemed like an actor's rehearsed monologue. Thankfully, it was Blaine who broke the silence.

"That was beautiful. What's it called?"

Kurt smiled slightly but it disappeared as quickly as it arrived, looking down at his entwined hands which now rested in his lap.

"'_Blaine_'. I don't ever name my songs. I've never felt the need to. But this one needed a title," Kurt looked up into Blaine's deep eyes, fidgeting slightly. "So it's just called '_Blaine_'. Simple, yet to the point." A pink flush crept up his neck slowly and he lowered his eyes to his hands again.

Smiling, Blaine slipped his hand between both of Kurt's, twisting his fingers into his until you couldn't tell when Kurt's fingers ended and Blaine's begun.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for pushing you away when all you want to do is help. You're a good guy, Kurt. A great guy, even. And you're certainly too great for me to deserve a friend like you..." he squeezed Kurt's hand, other hand slightly resting upon his leg, just above his knee. "I forget what I have. And I don't want it to end up being one of those things that I'd truly realise what I've got until it's gone. You're too precious for me to push away, Kurt. And I need to stop pushing and start letting you in."

Blinking, Kurt looked away in the opposite direction, a stinging feeling behind his eyes. _You're too precious for me to push away, Kurt..._ How Kurt yearned for Blaine to turn to him and proclaim his sudden love for the younger boy or some other fantasy that he'd concocted within his head but hey, baby steps.

"It's... it's okay, Blaine. I shouldn't have pressed you and if you don't want to tell me yet, I understand. I'm sorry."

"No, no. I want to tell you, I just... not yet. It's not time," Blaine absentmindedly begun tracing circles on Kurt's knee with his thumb, brow knitted together. "I'll tell you what. Let me make it up to you... a movie and dinner tonight? On me, of course."

"You don't have to do that..."

"Yes, I do," Blaine interrupted quickly, gently turning Kurt's chin with his index finger to face him. "I owe you. This is me making it up to you... Erm, do you mind driving though? My knee's been playing me up a bit."

Grinning down at him, Kurt's eyes bore into Blaine's, trying to read everything in the deep brown liquid of his irises. Blaine was a very hard person to read. Tonight would be a good chance to get inside and help Blaine break down the walls he'd managed to build up inside his mind.

"Cheeky. How does 6 o'clock sound?"

* * *

Blaine left Kurt to pick the movie which was just a bad move within itself as Kurt decided that he wanted to watch the soppiest, cheesiest chick flick that had ever been created on the planet. Not that Blaine minded. He was making it up to Kurt and if Kurt was happy, so was he.

Well, as happy as he could be.

Blaine sat in silence during the film, a smile playing upon his lips as Kurt aww'd and cooed beside him, elbows touching on the armrest between them. How Blaine just wanted to reach out and wrap his arms around Kurt's shoulders, pulling him in and letting him bury his head into his neck. Blaine would kiss him on the head and hold him close and pretend that they were living in their own little romance film, where nothing could hurt them... But the only time Blaine moved his arm was to reach for the popcorn. It certainly wasn't the time to make the moves on Kurt when his own head was so messed up...

Twenty minutes before the end of the film and that familiar feeling overcame Blaine. The shivers, the sweat, the heat, the vomit slowly rising up his throat... dropping his bucket of popcorn, he stumbled over Kurt's slender legs and ran, as fast as his knee allowed him to, down the steps, slamming open the theatre doors and stumbled down the bustling corridor outside to the toilets, where he fell upon his hands and knees, head over the toilet seat as he emptied the contents of his stomach. He leant back against the cubicle wall, pale and sweaty, hands wrapped around his knees. How he was so fucking sick of feeling like death.

"Blaine? Are you okay? Where are you?" Kurt's anxious voice rang through the empty bathroom, reverberating off the tiled walls. Feebly nudging the unlocked door to indicate which cubicle he was in, Blaine buried his face into his knees, the tremors of his body never ceasing.

"M'here."

Slipping into the cubicle, Kurt crouched down in front of him, running a hand through his ungelled hair lovingly. "Are you okay? Lift your head up for me, please."

Slowly, Blaine raised his head, pale face shining with sweat as Kurt grabbed a wad of tissue paper and patted at his cheeks and forehead and wiping his lips clean of sick, biting his lip with concern.

"Right, I think I should get you home. I'm going to get you up now, okay?"

Nodding weakly, Blaine held out his arms towards Kurt, as if a child pandering to be picked up and cuddled and to be told everything was going to be okay. Blaine needed to be told everything was going to be okay but it just _wasn't._

Pulling him to his feet, Kurt wrapped an arm around Blaine's waist and pulled one of Blaine's arms around his shoulders and led him from the toilets, out of the theatre towards the parking lot where Kurt had left his car, the cold hitting Blaine's skin with brutal force.

All Blaine could think of was how he'd ruined their night.

"I... I guess this means no dinner. I'm sorry that... you missed the end of the film..."

Kurt laughed, breath visible within the chilly air. "Don't be silly. Another time, okay? Now we just have to get you home and you can sleep this off." Smiling at him, Kurt pulled his car keys from his pocket, unlocking the door and helping Blaine into the passenger seat, even pulling the seatbelt across his lap and patting it down to make sure his friend was safe. Closing the door, Kurt walked around the back of the car so Blaine couldn't seen his facial expression through the windscreen. A sad, broken look. Whatever was wrong with Blaine was bad. And it killed him even more that Blaine wouldn't even tell him what was going down.

They drove home in silence, the radio even turned off for once in Kurt's life. He enjoyed belting out show tunes as he drove the trek home from Dalton each day, windows down even if it was a little cold, wind whipping at his hair. Sometimes Blaine was in that passenger seat too, singing along word perfectly, pearly smile fixed in place... tonight they just sat in silence.

As they reached Blaine's house, the tense silence was suddenly broken as Blaine laughed weakly, undoing his seatbelt.

"Sorry for ruining tonight. I'll make it up to you... again."

Leaning over, Kurt paused before touching his fingertips to the back of Blaine's hand. Not only did he mean it in a 'hey, it's okay, don't sweat it!' way but he tried to portray in that soft touch alone every feeling that was swirling around in his bunged up head that instant. And he was trying to tell Blaine that 'yes, if you tell me, I'll be with you through thick and thin'.

The small gesture hit Blaine, hard. Swallowing heavily, he opened his mouth to tell Kurt and... slowly closed it again.

Maybe another time, but not tonight.

Kurt nodded, pulling his fingertips away. He understood. Blaine wanted to tell him but he'd just to have wait.

And he'd already waited long enough for Blaine. He could always wait a little longer.

As they both slowly walked up the pathway, Kurt kept his hand on the small of Blaine's back, fingers slightly scrunching up the material of Blaine's shirt. Blaine limped along beside him, wincing with pain with every other step but never slowed until they reached the porch, light filtering down on them from the light above.

"Thank you, Kurt. For everything." Blaine smiled sheepishly, his deep eyes boring into Kurt's.

The younger boy blushed, a light shade of pink tinting his cheeks. "No problem. Just doing what any friend would do." He spluttered out, his cheeks growing steadily darker as he faltered under that dazzling look from Blaine that had some crazy effect on him.

Reaching out, Blaine held onto his hands tightly and gave them a gentle squeeze, thumb tracing patterns onto his skin. "No, seriously. Thank you, Kurt. I mean it."

An odd expression flitted over Kurt's face, disappearing in an instant. Blaine guessed it to be determination but the thought died quickly within his mind as Kurt lunged forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Blaine's lips. They gently, cautiously, moved their lips against each other, breaths catching in their throats, Blaine's hands unsure whether to slip his hands around Kurt's waist. Instead, they hung limply by his sides, the kiss clumsy and a little too wet.

When they broke away, not only were Kurt's cheeks pink and they coughed awkwardly, Blaine's hand reaching out for the door handle.

"I'd uhh better go..." Kurt muttered, hopping off of the porch and slowly making his way back down the pathway. Blaine turned towards his front door, his back to Kurt and froze.

He always regarded himself as the strong one. Kurt wasn't a weakling, he wasn't a small child who couldn't handle things himself. He just... sometimes had the inability to stand up for himself when things got a little tough. He could be a diva and that "Bitch, please!" look he had perfected so well never failed to make Blaine smile. But he was still weaker than Blaine. Or so Blaine thought... until now. He had told himself over and over that he couldn't tell Kurt. That it would break him. That it was too much weight for him to carry on his little shoulders. But Kurt had just done something that Blaine hadn't been able to do. To just _do it_. To stop overthinking, to stop worrying and to just _do it_. Surely Blaine owed Kurt the same _courage_ that he had just shown?

"It's cancer."

Blaine blurted it out before he could stop himself and physically _felt_ Kurt freeze behind him, hand so tight upon the door knob that his knuckles were turning white because of the pressure, a single drop of sweat rolling down his temple.

"I've got cancer, Kurt."

He turned slowly on the spot and slumped down onto the cold step, not even looking at Kurt at the end of the pathway.

"It's cancer," was all Blaine could say and suddenly, the tears were flowing, the walls crumbling down as his chest begun to ache with fear and every other negative feeling he had managed to shut off.

He was crying. The first time he had cried since finding out the news. The first time in so, so long that he had lost his strength and reduced himself to tears.

He felt another pair of arms wrap around him as Kurt sat down on the step beside him and they both howled together into the darkness of the night, sobbing hard as the both clung to each other for support. Kurt rubbed Blaine's back like a baby, his own hands trembling as their bodies shook together.

_Blaine has cancer._

Everything was happening so fast, every emotion and feeling hitting Kurt with all the force they could muster. His mom's face flashed up in the back of his mind, her body weak as she lay in the hospice, waiting for death to come greet her and embrace her like an old friend... his mind flashed to her funeral, to his dad's outstretched hand as they watched her coffin disappear slowly into the ground... back to a couple of minutes ago when Blaine uttered those two words.

_"It's cancer."_

Gradually, Blaine's tears stopped altogether, Kurt's slightly slowing, chests still rising and falling heavily as they worked the remaining dry sobs out of their systems. They still clung to one another, Blaine's hands bunched in Kurt's coat, rocking slightly side to side.

"I'm... I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I'm so sorry. I was so _scared_, Kurt. I'm still so scared," the words tumbled out of Blaine's mouth, tears threatening to spill over once again.

Kurt didn't say anything. He couldn't say anything, the tears still slowly rolling down from his swollen pink eyes, his lips slowly open as he licked his lips, trying to find the words to comfort the boy beside him... _Blaine's. Got. Cancer._

Apprehensively, Blaine took one of Kurt's cold hands and guided it to a spot on his thigh, just above his knee. He pressed Kurt's hand down hard and moved it slightly, watching Kurt's face as he winced.

"Can you feel it? The lump?"

Kurt nodded slowly, a lump in his own throat, constricting his passageways, making it hard for him to talk or even breathe.

"Mom wanted to take me to the doctor's because I was feeling weak and I was losing weight and I just couldn't keep up in practice... and then there was the _vomiting_ and the fever... then my knee swelled and I found the lump and I knew... I knew that it was bad."

Releasing Kurt's hand, he rubbed gently at his knee, looking down onto the pavement. He could feel the fever slowly coming back and ignored it, a stinging sensation growing stronger behind his eyes.

"It's bone cancer. Osteosarcoma or something. I haven't looked into it too much. I'm too scared. I'm too scared to face the facts and to find out how long I have left... I'm never scared, Kurt but this is fucking terrifying. I'm scared of dying."

"Don't talk like that," Kurt managed to finally croak back, gripping Blaine's hand again. He held on tightly, once again ignoring the bony feel of his slender fingers. "You're not going to die. I'm not going to let you. You're a fighter, Blaine Anderson. You've ran once but you've stopped running. You're going to face this... this... _cancer_ head on and fight it. Don't ever stop fighting, Blaine, not when you have so much to live for."

They sat in silence, Blaine soaking up the words that had just left Kurt's mouth. He had never heard the boy say something so _beautiful_ and it struck him. Hard. And he vowed right there, right then, that he was going to fight.

Smiling tearfully, Blaine lifted Kurt's hand to his lips and lightly kissed his knuckles, holding his hand against his mouth longer than necessary. "Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you... I feel like I'm going to be relying on you a lot soon and I'm sorry that I'm going to be a burden but I... I just really need someone. But not just anyone... You. I need you, Kurt."

Grip tightening on Blaine's hands, Kurt stared down the pathway, tears still silently falling down his face. Blaine begging for help was breaking him already and he knew, oh how he knew, that this was only the beginning of the pain.

They sat in silence for a little while longer, one of Kurt's hands absentmindedly rubbing Blaine's poorly knee as he could heal it with his hands alone. If only everything were that easy. Looking down at the hand on his knee, Blaine licked his lips gently and took a heavy breath, as if breathing would give him the courage that he needed.

"I... uhh, I was wondering if... you would come to the doctor's or something with me tomorrow? I... I think there might be another... another lump. In my shoulder. I don't want to worry Mom and Dad in case it's nothing. You don't have to if you don't want to, I'd understand!" he added hurriedly, scratching the back of his head with his free hand, biting on his lip anxiously. It was so much for Kurt to process and Blaine was already asking him to accompany him on hospital trips...

Reaching out for Blaine's other hand, Kurt squeezed them harder, their fingers locked tightly together.

"As I've already said... I'll be there for you, whatever's wrong. And I _will_ be there... for as long as you want and need me."

And once more, they collapsed into each other and sobbed, until their lungs and throats hurt and until their eyes could cry no more.


	3. I Find It Hard to Get Out of Bed

**It has been a while! Apologies, apologies. I wrote this chapter and it was so God awful but I couldn't figure out what to do with it. I didn't post it for fear of embarrassment aha. So I scrapped it, rewrote the whole thing and here we are.**  
**Thank you for being patient! I hope you enjoy :)**

* * *

**Glass Bones & Paper Skin**

**Chapter three: I Find it Hard to Get Out of Bed**

* * *

It was late by the time Kurt managed to drag himself into bed. Cheeks pink and bitten from the cold, eyes a puffy mess... tear tracks still shimmering upon his skin. Curling up on his side, Kurt clutched the duvet that was pulled up to his ears, hands fisting in the material as if he were clinging to it for dear life, as if he were holding on to try and keep himself together.

_Blaine's got cancer... He's got cancer. _

He couldn't think straight. Kurt tried to push something else through to the front of his mind. Something, _anything_. Maybe a good thought or maybe words of encouragement and positivity that told him that everything was going to be okay. _Blaine_ was going to be okay. He had told Blaine that everything was going to be alright and that he was going to beat this because he was a _fighter_... but telling himself that was a whole different story.

But only one word rung through his mind. Bold, red, ugly. Repeating itself over and over. A death chant. _Cancer, cancer, cancer, cancer..._

The dull grey of Kurt's ceiling swam above him, as dark and as dismal as the fog that had settled inside his mind. Crying out inside his head, Kurt's hands tightened, a light sheen of tears across his eyes as he spoke silent words, calling out to his mom like all of those times when he'd woken from a terrible nightmare after her death. He never went to his father because he had his own pain and suffering... he often heard him crying as he paused outside Burt's bedroom door, one of Kurt's small pales hands outstretched as if he could reach him through the wood and comfort him... Instead, Kurt just spoke to his _mom_, even if she would never, ever answer or give him advice.

_I'm going to lose him. I can't lose him. I always lose everything that I love. It's like losing you all over again... Blaine's got cancer. Why did it have to be Blaine? _

_I'm scared, Mom. I'm scared that I'll lose him. I'm scared because I'll have to see this disease slowly eat away at him and watch him waste away. I'll see those thick curls of his fall out, I'll see his face slowly get thinner and paler. I'll see him get weaker._

_Weaker. That's the part that's hurting the most. How can I be strong when Blaine isn't?_

_Blaine is the strong one out of us. He was there for me when I felt no one else was. I'm not as weak as he seems to think I am but this... this kind of stuff... I can't take it. It all builds up on me and it pulls me down and I feel like I'm _drowning_ and I just _can't do it_. I need him to be strong. He understood the trouble I was going through at McKinley. He helped me find _courage_. And although the 'standing up to the bullies' thing didn't completely work out the way I wanted it too, he helped me settle into Dalton when I ran. I've fallen for him, Mom. I fell for him the moment I stopped him on that stairway and I would just do _anything_ to see him smile the way he smiled at me forever._

_He has been my rock. But the tables have turned. And now I have to be the one that holds him up and keeps him safe from the world._

_I don't think I can do it._

* * *

Blaine never made it to his bed.

When Kurt left, he had a brave face. A face that still completely read 'I'm not holding myself together but I'm trying... for my sake and for yours'. But he did try, nevertheless. Blaine stood on the doorstep, frozen to the spot in the chilly winter's breeze, as he watched Kurt's car disappear down the dark, dark street, heart shattering as he watched tears rolling down his the younger boy's face beyond the windscreen. As Blaine finally let himself into the house, his knee gave way and he fell to the floor with a clatter, arms wrapped around himself as he sobbed into the carpet. Why did it have to be him? Why did he have to be the one with an expiry date stamped upon his forehead? Why was it him who could hear his internal clock ticking loudly, as if to tell him that when time was up... all would be over?

Everything was hard. So fucking hard. And all he could see whilst curled up in the cold hallway, the draught from under the front door ghosting over him and tickling the small bit of flesh showing, was the tear stained face of Kurt within his mind.

He just laid there. He just laid there and sobbed. Treatment hadn't even begun yet and he already felt... already felt that there was just no use. He wished he could believe the words that Kurt told him but... it just felt so much easier to run now, than to fight. Maybe it would just save his family and Kurt the pain of watching him die if he just passed on in peace and quiet, curled up against his front door in the gloomy hallway.

_I can't believe I'm putting them through so much pain. Why me? Did I do something? Did I do something so severe that I desperately needed punishing for my actions? If there's a God up there, please, tell me what I did wrong. Because you're not just hurting me. You're hurting everyone. And I can't stand seeing their pain. _

_If I'm going to die, God, please let it be soon. If this date upon my forehead is soon, then please save my loved ones the wasted hope and the wasted faith and the wasted moments that they'd spend by my bedside. You're torturing them. You're filling their lives with pain and I can't help them._

_I don't want to die. I don't want to leave this world yet. I want to face Death with my head held high and my dignity intact, at a ripe old age, where I've lived many a-years with Kurt Hummel on my arm. If you have the power to stop this cancer, please do. Please help me. Please help everyone else._

_I beg of you._

_But if you plan to take me from their grasps sometime in the very near future, please don't prolong the pain... just take me. I'm ready and I'm waiting. Just take me._

_I'll come without a fuss._

_I'll just face Death with my head held high._

* * *

Kurt hated the dark. He'd always hated the dark. It wasn't the fact that he didn't know what was hiding inside its shadowy depths... he just hated not being able to see. If there was something Kurt hated, it was the inability to see. Physically _and_mentally. He'd pick something apart if he couldn't understand it. He'd analyse it. He'd study it. He'd pull it apart at the seams, causing it to fray bit by bit until he could see.

Maybe this was why the whole prospect of Blaine's future was so daunting. Because Kurt just couldn't _see_.

Of course, Kurt can never see the future. It's far off. He can't decide what will happen. And he can't prepare himself for anything painful that may happen in the future.

He can't see what will happen to Blaine.

Sometimes, people just have this death sentence hanging above their head. A dark, grey thunder cloud. It's there, it won't go. And suddenly it's coming even closer... counting the seconds between the flash of lightning and the clap of thunder to figure out how quickly it will arrive... and then it's there, it's directly above and...

It's all over. Because Death has come to take everything away.

He can't work out how long it will be until this cloud reaches Blaine. Counting the seconds between the flashes and claps didn't work because the roaring of the death chant rang in his ears until it flooded all of his senses. All he knew was that the cloud was nearing... and there was nothing they could do to stop it.

_Cancer, cancer, cancer, cancer, cancer..._

Since his father had married Carole, the family had had to move to accommodate for their larger family, which seemed to have doubled in the space of a single day. One moment Kurt was in his basement, next, he found himself in a new, bare room, which screamed to have its walls splashed with colour and to be sprinkled with a pinch of Kurt's spice... Kurt found it difficult being upstairs nearer to his father because masking his cries was something he wasn't used to.

He could cry freely in his basement... sob and wail until the earlier hours and Sleep claimed him as His own, exhaustion engulfing him. And this seemed to be a moment when he needed to cry it out, to scream for his boyfriend that had limited time. He still couldn't get his head around how someone could believe in a God if he was so willing to take someone with such little experience within the world with such little thought.

_Why does it always happen to the ones I love? _

_First you, Mom, then Dad ending up in the hospital and now Blaine._

_Was I always destined to have bad luck and have all of the horrible things in the world dumped right on the plate in front of me?_

_The times when something bad isn't happening are very rare._

_First, being born gay and being picked on for it like it's_wrong_, like I have some sort of sick disease that, if I get teased enough and beaten enough and had enough_slushies_thrown into my face, will disappear just like that. I used to wish that it was just an illness and I could be cured and it would just leave me and I wouldn't get taunted and I wouldn't have the word 'fag' screamed at me wherever I went ever again._

_Then your cancer came and I watched you die right before me and I bloody wished that that illness would be cured as well. I wished nothing would ever hurt Dad because he had suffered so much already. Just look what happened to his heart._

_Wishing has never done many wonders for me._

_I've learnt that a lot of illnesses can't be cured and I just _hope _that Blaine's won't be one of them._

_I know I'm pinning a death sentence upon him already. I know I should be stronger. I know I should think positively... but this is all too much to handle and my mind's going straight down one track. Blaine means the world to me. He's amazing and he's funny and he's beautiful and sometimes he could just _look _at me and my mind would melt into a jumbled mess. You would've loved him, if you'd had the chance to meet him... he would have won you over the _second _he stepped through that front door. It took a while for Dad to approve. He could see how much I had fallen for him... he was scared for me in case Blaine never reciprocated those feelings. I think I've had enough heartache in my life so far. He sees how happy Blaine makes me feel... but I think he was deciding on behalf of you as well... you would probably never forgive him if he let me date (well, possibly date someday...) someone that wasn't to your standards... but you would have liked Blaine. I'm sure of it._

_No. No, no,_ no_, Kurt. Don't you see what you're doing? You're inviting Death. You're personally _inviting _Him to come and take away Blaine. Don't give up on him, Kurt. Don't you _dare _because yeah, Blaine will fucking beat this. Blaine can do this. And Blaine would never go down without a fight._

* * *

_Maybe I could just die right here, right now... with this stupid draught tickling my back and dad's slippers digging into my head. So much for dying with dignity._

Despite all that he'd ever told himself, all of the promises that he'll fight this to the death... regardless if it were his death or the cancer's... Blaine was ready to give up. Kurt's face swimming through his mind should be a sign to stand up proud and tall and to just _fight_... but all he felt was the desperate need to end the pain and to end the tears falling down that boy's face.

He couldn't get his head around it. He couldn't understand what he had to _do_to stop those tears. Why did he drag Kurt into this dark, dark world of his? Why couldn't he have just learnt to support himself and just get on with it? But Blaine needed Kurt as if his life depended on it because, well, it kind of did.

Blaine's hands snuck up to settle in his hair, his fist tight to his scalp as he screamed into his knees to muffle the sound. The screaming, the tears, the sobbing. How hard it was to stop once they'd begun. He wanted to tear his hair out (_Ha, _he thought bitterly to himself, _it's not as if the chemotherapy won't do that for me_) and he just wanted to lay there forever.

_I'm not even that far in and I'm already on the verge of giving up... what is wrong with me?_

He laid there for a little longer, trying to find the will to pull himself to his feet and to drag himself to the sanctuary of his comfy bed, to hide and feel the comforting arms of his duvet wrap around him and caress him until he falls asleep from pure exhaustion. But moving felt like effort and breathing felt like too much for him.

As if reading his thoughts, Blaine's phone buzzed to life in his pocket, clambering for his attention. Groaning, he pulled it from its hiding place, Kurt's name flashing up on the screen with a single word:

_Courage._

A sob rose in his throat as he clutched hard at the phone in his hands, eyes shining over with tears. How the tables were turned... back when Kurt needed his support, he was the one sending encouraging texts and whispering words of comfort into his ear... now it was Kurt who had to keep Blaine together, to hold his hand and to pull him through and to tell him that yes, everything was going to be okay.

Closing the message, Blaine smiled at his phone background. It was a photograph of him and Kurt on his birthday last month... Kurt wearing a pointed glittery party hat, a delighted smile upon his face that was so wide, it caused his eyes to crinkle around the edges... Blaine had his cheek pressed against Kurt's, curls free of their gel hold, a paper hat placed lopsidedly upon them, his eyes closed as they both laughed in delight together. Blaine loved this photograph. He loved to see Kurt smile. And if that smile ever vanished from that beautiful face, Blaine would risk life and limb, use every ounce of energy within his being to get it back. He bit his lip as he looked down at that screen, thumb brushing gently other Kurt's face, comprehension finally dawning on him.

_Giving up would mean taking that smile from Kurt's face... and I've always promised that I would do anything to bring that smile back if it ever disappeared... I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I were the reason for it to vanish... so I have to fight. I have to fight for myself, for my family and certainly for Kurt._

The phone buzzed again in his hand and Blaine pulled back his thumb to read the latest words upon the screen. Of course, it was Kurt again, and the words brought tears back into his eyes but yeah... he was actually smiling.

_I know you're still awake. And I know you probably haven't even made it to your bed at this rate. But I just wanted to remind you that I'm here. I'm here and I will _always _be here. I will be here to steady you if you stumble and I will be here to catch you if you fall. I will hold your hand every single damn step of the way. You don't deserve this and you certainly don't deserve to face this alone. If you need me, you call me. I don't care what time of the night it is. I don't even care if I'm halfway through a facial at the spa. You call me and I will be by your side as quickly as possible, okay? You're amazing Blaine Anderson, and I know it's going to be tough and the path is going to become very rocky... but you can't stop fighting. You can never stop fighting. Because the world wouldn't be the same if you weren't here in it, brightening up everyone's day with a little touch of Blaine sunshine. Don't stop believing in yourself because you can do it. I believe in you and the world believes in you... Now get your butt into bed, Mister, before I come and tuck you in myself. Keep holding on xx_

A few escapee tears rolled down his cheeks as Blaine managed to push himself to his feet, hand smoothing down his hectic curls. He stumbled up the stairs to his room, the text message playing over and over in his head... _I'm here and I will always be here... you can never stop fighting... I believe in you and the world believes in you..._

He sighed heavily as he collapsed onto his bed after pulling on his pyjamas. After typing out a quick reply to Kurt to just let him know that he was fine, he curled up under the duvet, hugging himself hard as he reminded himself of the amazing best friend that he had been graced with.

_Kurt Hummel is my reason to fight and damn it, will I fight!_

* * *

Kurt's phone buzzed upon the bedside chest, his eyes snapping quickly to the screen. Scanning the words, he picked out the vital parts, understanding that Blaine was safe and that he was okay...

Everything wasn't going to be okay. Not yet anyway. It was going to tough. It was going to be hard. There would be treatment. A lot of doctors. Grey hospitals and endless corridors. Injections. Blood tests. Tablets. Surgery. Chemotherapy and radiotherapy. Pale skin and loss of hair. Weak bones. Fractures. Tears. Lots and lots of tears.

But they were going to go through it all together. And Kurt was going to beside Blaine every single moment of that tough, tough journey. They could do this. And that was what made this okay.

* * *

Both boys slept soundly after this short exchange, dried tears upon their cheeks but the smallest of smiles playing upon their pale lips.


	4. Empty Like the Ocean

**Oh wow, finally. A GB&PS update... I'm sorry guys for the lack of this story. Things have just been really tough lately and it didn't help when I came to a block whilst writing this.**

**Thank you for being patient everyone and apologies if this is a terrible chapter. Love to everyone. Thank you for reading my junk so far.**

* * *

**Glass Bones & Paper Skin**

**Chapter four: Empty Like the Ocean**

* * *

The clock on Kurt's dashboard read 10:47 as he drove himself and Blaine to the hospital, the radio humming lowly in the background, too quiet for either of them to hear.

They sat in silence, sore, tired eyes fixed on the road ahead. They hadn't said much since Kurt had picked Blaine up from his home and quickly stopped off to grab coffee from the Lima Bean... while Blaine's right hand grasped a warm cup, Kurt's held tightly onto Blaine's left over the centre console of the car, fingers painfully entwined as they sought comfort in one another. Kurt tried to ignore the tremble of Blaine's hand but it was okay; his was shaking just as much.

If this had happened last year, Kurt would've denied that he was scared. That he was scared for the lost little boy who sat curled up in the passenger seat beside him. Fear was for the weak. Fear was for the pathetic. But after the Karofsky incidents and the meeting upon the staircase, Kurt learnt that it's easier to pull out the stopper in the bottle and let the emotions flow.

If anyone asked him how he was feeling now, it wouldn't be 'scared'... it would be '_terrified_'.

When they pulled up in the hospital car park and the key had been removed from the ignition, Kurt sighed and leant his forehead against the steering wheel. There was no point trying to hide what he was feeling from Blaine. They'd both seen each other's tears last night and the nervous breakdowns. Hiding would just complicate things. It was all out in the open. The illness, the emotions. Everything. Lies just make things more confusing and muddled, like kite strings tangled in a knot. Tangled strings mean no flight. Just a poor grounded kite in the mud. If the strings in Kurt and Blaine's lives get tangled by lying and hiding things from one another, then they'd just get nowhere and be held in place without moving forward.

Blaine just looked straight ahead out of the windscreen as Kurt composed himself, the coffee in his hand now stone cold. He didn't move, didn't respond, just wanted to get this all over with and find out if this disease inside of him was slowly poisoning other parts of his body, eating away at his insides. What would happen when the cancer runs out of bones to latch onto? What would be next to suffer? His intestines, his liver, his stomach, his lungs, his heart, his brain...

Something softly touched the side of his face, snapping him out of his thoughts and making him flinch harshly. He looked over at Kurt and his outstretched hand with a stricken look.

"I- I'm sorry... I thought..." the younger boy stuttered, withdrawing his fingers from Blaine's skin as if it had scorched the tips, biting his lip through fear of upsetting and unsettling the older boy.

"No. No, it's okay. It just made me jump... that's all." Blaine took Kurt's hand before it completely withdrew, pressing it back against his cheek. As Blaine moved his hand off of his, Kurt stroked with the back of his fingers as gently as possible from temple to chin. Blaine leant into the touch; eyes closed and mouth open slightly, almost purring like a kitten.

"Everything's going to be alright..." Kurt whispered softly, fingers stroking down Blaine's cheek again and again, still gently comforting even when Kurt can feel the wetness of tears upon his skin. "_Blaine_..."

Blaine breathed out heavily, his chest shaking from the effort not to sob. It sounded worse when he tried to breathe in, his breath coming in broken little gasps. He tried not to look at Kurt as he cried, looking out across the parking lot.

"I'm s-sorry, I'm b-being st-stupid b-but... but I can't f-find the st... strength for this. I'm s-sorry, Kurt..." He hated himself. He truly did. Two steps forward and three steps back. What happened to the night before when Kurt had helped to push himself into fighting for his own life? What happened to that? What had _changed_?

"It's okay, it's okay. Shhh," Kurt pulled him into an embrace, pressing a kiss to his curls that lay free from the vice like gel grip. His hands fisted the back of Blaine's shirt whilst Blaine's grasped the front of his. They held each other so close, so tightly, it was a wonder that their hands hadn't become numb from the pressure. "It's okay... I would say that if you're not ready for this, we can go home right now, forget about it, shove a DVD on or two, grab a bowl of popcorn, the works. But you need to do this, Blaine. Because you might not find the courage to come back here and, as much as I hate to say it, this may be something that needs to be treated. Leaving's only going to make things worse."

Blaine nodded against his shoulder before pulling away and rubbing his eyes with his fists. He looked tired, exhausted even, and Kurt felt a lump form in his throat as he looked at the boy across from him. Oh, how cruel nature could be. How cruel it could be to hit a boy of this age with something as terrifying as this. But with tsunamis and hunger and earthquakes happening all across the world... it's always been obvious that nature was never one to be kind and giving.

Blaine turned to fix Kurt a wobbly smile, eyes shining with unshed tears. They sat there for a few beats, eyes locked, fingers locked, waiting for courage to hit them with the force of a speeding train.

Finally, with a shuddering breath, Blaine blinked, giving Kurt's fingers one final squeeze. "Let's do this."

* * *

"Well, Blaine, I'm very glad that you've come to me about this..."

The consultant's office. Kurt sat across the room from Blaine, wringing his hands together, whilst he sat shirtless upon the doctor's bed. It took all of Kurt's self-discipline not to rake his eyes over Blaine's nude chest, slowly moving from his enticing collarbones to his dark chest hair to his perfectly shaped nipples, right down that stomach and _God_, to those hips. Yep, took all of Kurt's self-discipline but he managed... just.

The doctor, Dr. Garrison, stood behind Blaine as he kept his eyes lowered to the ground, ignoring the man's probing fingers on his shoulder blade. From that sentence alone, he could tell it was bad news. Great.

"Why so, Doc?" Blaine tried to say but his voice only coming out in a hoarse whisper, his windpipe feeling swollen and constricted. He couldn't look up at Kurt, couldn't meet his eyes, couldn't face seeing the shine of tears across the surface.

"By the feel of it, it seems like a cyst, a small sac full of fluid. Have you ever injured this shoulder?" Dr. Garrison handed the boy back his shirt, smiling comfortingly down at him. How many people sat there in his place, upon the paper covered bed, day after day. Adults, children, teenagers, elderly. Some sat in that spot only to be told that the cancer had returned or worse, that it was no longer treatable... a terminal illness. A signed death warrant.

"Yeah... last year... fell out of a tree at school..." Blaine murmured in reply, slipping his head and arms back through his shirt. He managed to look up at Kurt at that point, who seemed a little glassy eyed, and gave him a shaky, yet okay, smile.

"There we go then," the doctor smiled and sunk down into his own chair behind his desk, where he shuffled around various pieces of paperwork. "Cysts sometimes form from a burst blood vessel in an impact injury. Have you ever noticed it in the past?"

"I don't know," Blaine slid into the chair next to Kurt, facing the white haired man who was too busy flicking through Blaine's file to look up. "I mean... I _think_I can recall my mom pointing out before. I'm not sure if I'm just tricking myself into believing that or not... I guess I'm just so paranoid about it all."

"Judging by that, I don't think it's serious and I believe that that is the reason you have it. Yet I'll get a biopsy sorted out for you anyway. Hopefully, it'll just be from the past impact and be benign, non-cancerous, but we'll get you tested. I'm just glad that you came here because it shows that you're being more aware of your body and aware that this is something very serious. Something that is also very important for you is that you need to keep checking your leg. We need to know asap if any other lumps appear and the cancer is more likely to spread on the same bone, rather than to somewhere else in your body. Thankfully, the whole disease is in its first stages so we've caught it early."

Kurt sat there throughout this whole speech, chest growing tighter over words such as 'serious' and 'lumps' and 'cancer' kept cropping up. It was all so real and they couldn't hide from that fact any more. Even the word 'thankfully' didn't calm his nerves so he reached out across the chairs to grip onto Blaine's hand, anything to help him breathe normally again. Blaine just shortly glanced over at the boy beside him before turning back at the doctor, eyes unblinking.

"Now it's time to think about your treatment," the atmosphere suddenly grew tense within the room as Dr. Garrison slowly removed his glasses, eyes beneath them hard and grave. "I believe you really need to think about starting it soon because you're giving the cancer time, Blaine. Time that can be precious for us to stop it. I understand how you can be apprehensive..."

"What?" Kurt finally managed to interject after sitting with his mouth agape from this revelation, his voice shaking with anger as the doctor's words slowly processed in his mind. "You've been putting off getting treated? Are you out of your mind?"

Blaine finally managed to glance sideways, his eyes never fully managing to hit Kurt's so instead settling for his shoulder. He had been hoping that this conversation would be avoided because he _knew_Kurt would react this way. Understandably, of course.

"I haven't been putting it off for long. I was just... waiting after I told you. I wanted you to know first, before the chemo destroyed my body. Don't be angry, Kurt..." Blaine gasped all of this out so quickly, the words tripping over each other as if racing to leave his tongue first. His voice broke slightly on the word 'destroyed', their eyes finally locking. As much as he wanted to look away from Kurt's eyes, he couldn't. There were so many emotions flashing through one by one and trying to keep up with it all just made Blaine dizzy.

Kurt bit back the words that threatened to spill out and instead opted to clamp his teeth together, his jaw ridiculously clenched. Blaine could see a muscle slightly twitching from the strain of it. Kurt looked expectantly back at the doctor as if willing him to carry on, Blaine reluctantly tearing his gaze away.  
"Right..." Dr. Garrison coughed awkwardly before looking back down at his notes. "Well, as you know, we're going to book you in for chemotherapy and then..."

The rest of the consultation flew past, full of technical terms and various other words that Kurt and Blaine wouldn't be able to pronounce, let alone understand. But they sat in feigned rapt attention, when all they could really concentrate on was the feel of their palms pressed together and the burning warmth of their tangled fingers.

"...after your surgery, we'll then arrange some more treatment to make sure that it's all gone. Any questions? We should start arranging to book you in for chemotherapy as soon as possible."

"No."

The voice was so small, so fragile, so tiny, so _broken_ that Kurt and Dr. Garrison almost missed it. It could have been mistaken for an exhalation of breath or the creak of the chair or _anything_. That voice couldn't have come from Blaine. It couldn't have. That one defiant word... no? No. Why 'no'? As they both turned to give Blaine an incredulous stare, the tips of his ears grew pink, his eyebrows tugged down into a frown as he stared at the edge of the desk, lips set in a straight line.

Kurt was the first to speak as they all sat in stunned silence. Shifting around in the chair, he turned to completely face his best friend, tugging at his hand to try and force him to look up. "No? Blaine... please." Kurt clasped Blaine's hand in both of his and pressed them to his chest, willing him to see sense and feel the heart thudding against his ribcage, as if chanting _Do. This. For. Me._.

"Not yet. I... I just want to live normal life for a little bit longer... is that too much to ask?" Blaine replied, his voice growing quieter and quieter as his words progressed. It was a wonder as to how he was getting out those words, due to the trembling of his bottom lip.

The doctor slowly opened his mouth to reassure the sick boy across the table but Kurt interjected before he could speak, shuffling his chair closer until his knees were touching Blaine's thigh. "Blaine, honey... I know, I get it. I'm not going to sugar coat this and tell you that you will still lead a 'normal life', even while you fight this. But things will change and you'll have to adapt. We'll all have to adapt. But it's okay. It's all going to be okay. If that's what it takes to make you better again, then so be it. The sooner you start treatment, the sooner you'll find yourself back in normality, look at it that way. It may be a new norm and a different one as to what you know now but... this is what you'll have to go through. There's no avoiding this treatment. It's that or death, Blaine," the other boy winced at that word, eyes screwed shut as if shutting out the pain. Kurt merely ploughed on through his speech, grasp on Blaine's hands growing tighter and tighter. "This is something you need to do. But it's not something you're going to do alone."

Kurt looked down to see Blaine's hand resisting his grasp, fingers trying to gently, but demandingly, pry themselves away from Kurt's own. "I know... but I can't do this. Not yet. Let me live a little bit first... I'm going to waste away and I can't... I can't face that. I will fight, I will. I promise. But... not yet. I thought you'd understand."

"No, I don't understand, Blaine," Kurt's voice grew higher as his hands finally released Blaine's. "I understand that you want to feel normality for a little bit longer. I get that. I just don't understand why it's more important than a fight for your life."

It would have been expected that the volume of Blaine's voice would rise at these words, but they only grew quieter as he shrunk in on himself. His words were barely audible, not helped by the hands covering his face. "Kurt, this is my life. Not yours. Let me live it how I want. It's nothing to do with you and it's none of your business."

Dr. Garrison wondered if this was the moment to pull on a protective helmet or something. Because at the rate the two of them were going, chairs would be thrown soon. Jerry Springer style.

Well, it was certainly Kurt's voice that rose at this, the tops of his cheeks and nose becoming flushed with anger as he rose from his chair. "Oh, apologies for caring. You're in my life, Blaine. In fact, you're a huge part of my life. I think I have the right to interfere. And it _became_my business when you told me about the cancer! Or even when you sung that damn Katy Perry song to me. If you want to kill yourself, fine, Blaine. Just don't expect me to sit around and watch you do that to yourself."

At this, he turned and stalked to the door, his long legs only carrying him three steps before wrenching it open. The hinges creaked threateningly as Kurt muttered something that sounded like "I need some air" before storming down the corridor.

The only thing Dr. Garrison could do was offer Blaine his box of tissues and a pat on the back as he howled and cried into the palm of his hands, Kurt doing the same thing only just down the end of the corridor.

* * *

Would it always be this hard? This difficult? This painful?

Would it ever stop, even after the words 'remission' and 'all clear' are heard?

Surely it can never get easier. The memories and the pain and the flashbacks and the nightmares and the trauma and the scars remain. Like Kurt had said, things would change. Normality'll eventually return but it'll be a new normality. One that needs to be adapted to. Moulded and shaped to discover what the best is for one's self. So the original normality? That'll never come back.

How could one disease do so much? How could it cause so much damage? Destruction? _Death_? Kurt wasn't even the one suffering from it... and he could feel himself breaking apart. First a chip... which breaks into a crack... growing bigger and bigger, the glass shaking until shards and fragments break loose... Now it's only a matter of time until the glass caves in and the whole thing tumbles down.

_I shouldn't have gotten angry, I shouldn't have gotten angry, I shouldn't have gotten angry... why can't you control that damn mouth of yours, Hummel? If this is how I'm feeling... how is Blaine holding together? Has he caved in already? Tumbled down? Fallen apart altogether and hidden it from me? I know he's a wreck, I know he's breaking apart... but not this badly. Maybe I should go-_

"I've booked myself in for chemo tomorrow." A tiny broken voice whispered behind Kurt. The words shook and broke a little and Kurt felt the warmth of Blaine's body as he sat down beside him on the kerbside, shoulders, elbows, thighs and knees pressed flushed together.

"That's... that's great, Blaine. Thank you..." Kurt whispered back, his hand feeling around for Blaine's so he could clutch tightly onto it. They pressed their (slightly sweaty) palms together, fingers painfully wrapped around one another's as they shakily drew in breaths, eyes fixed on the car park ahead.

"No. Thank you for convincing me that I was being stupid. I just haven't been thinking straight lately." The broken boy murmured, leaning his head against Kurt's. He inhaled heavily, memorising Kurt's luscious scent and slotting it into his mind... into the box that read "Things that I'll miss if I go". Blaine squeezed his eyes shut at this thought, his vice grip tightening upon Kurt's fingers, body pressing closer to his. Kurt responded by pulling him closer, the muscles in his own hand tense.

"I'm sorry. I just... I can't stand the thought of you..." Kurt quickly changed the direction where he was heading, unable to voice the words that lingered on the tip of his tongue. "I know you're a fighter, Blaine. Deep underneath the fear, there's some courage there. And that fear of yours was making you think irrationally... as was mine," They both shared slightly sheepish smiles at this, eyes twinkling as the tension in the air slowly thinned. "I'm sorry for being, as Finn would say, a dick."

A musical laugh escaped from Blaine's lips at this, the worry etched upon his face instantly vanishing. "You're not a dick. You were right. I was being stupid. So save your 'sorry's, please. I'm already over it. You have nothing to apologise for."

Kurt smiled at this and looked back ahead across the car park, unsure of what to say next... when he felt lips pressed to the skin of his temple. Soft and tender. Kurt's eyes closed blissfully, chest heaving as Blaine pulled away and clambered to his feet, their hands still joined together.

"Thank you for caring, Kurt. I don't know where I'd be without you," He pushed his thumb across the soft skin of Kurt's knuckles, eyes suddenly looking a lot older and mature as he gazed down at the boy upon the ground and thought about the long future that he was about to face. "I have to go for my biopsy now... You can come join me when you're ready, if you want."

Kurt instantly stumbled to his feet. He promised he'd be with Blaine every single step of the way. And Kurt Hummel always kept his promises. He was certainly not going to start breaking them now.

_I'll never let you down again_, Kurt thought to himself as he and Blaine stepped back through the hospital entrance... as they stepped back onto their dark and dangerous path that Life was happily dragging them down.


	5. AUTHOR'S NOTE

**First of all, hello and sorry for you getting a notification that I have updated when in fact, I have not. I am thinking about this story and where it's going and the lack of updating and the fact that I feel like I'm disappointing everyone by not writing fast enough or updating or paying as much attention to this story as I should be doing. I feel like a bum, to be honest. So I'm going to ask now, does anyone want me to carry on writing, regardless of how long I take to update or just drop this story and pretend it never existed? Is anyone genuinely interested in it enough for me to carry on? I've realised that multi-chapters aren't my thing. I can't do them or anything beyond oneshots. Sequels don't even work for me. And I just feel like I'm letting everyone down due to the story progressively growing worse as it moves along. I just wanted to know everyone's opinions on it. I currently have half of chapter 5 done but it's been hectic recently due to having to go back to college for a week and Glee Live and queuing up a total of 24 hours to see Darren live twice because I'm ridiculous but yeah... I haven't given an update in ages. So thoughts please. Because I'm considering dropping it.**

**I'm sorry, guys.**


	6. You're My Saviour

**Does anyone remember this story? Because I sure don't.**

**This is where I begin my endless apologies. I am so, so sorry for taking so long to put this out. From going from working 2 days a week to 6, lack of motivation, personal issues, holidays, writer's block and an crashing laptop, I've finally got another chapter. I'm still doubting this story but after laying on a sun lounger for 7 days reading endless fanfiction by the pool, I've felt like I can write this and I can do it.**

**A HUGE thank you to every single one of you who has reviewed this, favourited it, opted in for alerts... heck, even favourited me and opted in author alerts. It means a lot to me. I'm sorry if I've lost your interest now, I really am, and I don't blame you. But thank you if you've stuck with me and have faith in me. An even BIGGER thank you to everyone who told me to carry on writing this. You're the reason that I still am. I didn't even realise so many people would still be interested in it aha. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE leave me reviews on this chapter and the story so far. Is there anything wrong? Is my writing getting weaker? Do you not like how I wrote something? Even what did you enjoy about it? I need constructive criticism to improve my writing for you and even praise to motivate me to carry on!**

**Once again, I'm sorry and thank you. I love all of you.**

* * *

**Glass Bones & Paper Skin**

**Chapter five: You're My Saviour**

* * *

The next day, Blaine began his chemotherapy.

No one knew if it was an act of 'putting others before yourself' or a way of maintaining his dignity. Kurt thought it was both. But hadn't Kurt said to Blaine that he'd be with him every step of the way? That he would hold his hand tightly and never let go until they'd broken out of this darkness and stepped back into the light? Hadn't he proclaimed these promises and sworn that he'd stick to them?

Well, why was Blaine refusing to see him?

* * *

Blaine's phone buzzed on the bedside table as he limped out of the bathroom on the morning of his first chemo session, wet hair clinging to his forehead with just a towel wrapped around his midriff. The towel hung just short of his knees, showing the painful lump on his leg that grew more prominent each passing day. Blaine cursed himself as he stumbled slowly across the room, feeling so much anger and resentment that he had been stupid enough to put off treatment. Those could have been precious moments. Precious moments that could have been used to save his life. He was so, so stupid.

_Oh well, what's done is done..._

Snatching up his phone, Blaine sighed as Kurt's name flashed up on the screen, his thumb moving to open the message and tap out a reply, pausing every so often to wonder if he was doing the right thing.

**Inbox: Kurt (9:14am)**  
_Hey, was just wondering when you wanted me to come over? I can take you to the hospital or I can meet you there? I come bearing gifts of sweets and the latest issue of Vogue! Xxx_

**Outbox: To Kurt (9:17am)**  
_I think it would be a good idea if you didn't come over at all, Kurt._

**Inbox: Kurt (9:18am)**  
_Why? What's up, Blaine? Xxx_

**Inbox: Kurt (9:27am)**  
_Blaine, have I done something? Please talk to me x_

**Inbox: Kurt (9:34am)**  
_Please, Blaine, I'm worried about you._

**Inbox: Kurt (9:38am)**  
_Blaine?_

Swiftly turning off his phone as it buzzed once again, Blaine threw it upon his pillow and continued to get ready to go to the hospital with his mom. He stalked from the room, slinging his bag over his shoulder without giving a backwards glance to the silent object upon the bed and without giving a backwards thought to his best friend and the boy he loved, who he'd just shot down for reasons he wasn't even sure of himself.

* * *

So the week passed without a glimpse of Kurt in Blaine's hospital room, as he spent an hour at a time with a drip dug deep into the vein in the back of his hand and a juicy paperback novel in the other. He tried to ignore the bag which hung up beside him with his necessary drugs inside which was slowly emptying as it dispensed itself into his bloodstream. He tried to ignore the doctors as they flitted in one after another like solid ghosts to check the IV drip, asking questions and prodding and poking at the sore lump in his knee. Blaine would wince and scrunch up his face but found he was too weak to complain or do much else.

Each hospital visit slipped past. Maybe it was the exhaustion that made everything go so fast or maybe the endless vomiting into kidney dishes. Sometimes when his mom came with him and slid out of the room to grab coffee, Blaine would just sit and cry for a few moments, wondering how much worse this would all get until it got better and if all of these drugs were even helping in the first place. The shooting pains through his knee became more persistent, the lump as big as ever as it proudly protruded from his leg.

Blaine was expecting this. He was expecting this to happen. He had anticipated worse news. He didn't even bat an eyelid when Dr. Garrison sat on the edge of his bed and told him that the tumour didn't seem to be shrinking, that the chemotherapy wasn't doing much.

_We'll up your dosage and if that doesn't do it, I'm afraid we'll have to team chemo up with a little radiotherapy. We can't operate until its small enough to remove, because it would cause too much damage... I'm sorry, Blaine._

The words swum in and out of focus a little, as if Blaine's head was being held underneath the water. It might as well have been as Blaine well and truly felt like he had been thrown into the deep end.

He responded with a shrug of the shoulder, an indifference twitch of the head and finally a dry sob as Dr. Garrison left the room. His vision begun to blur as tears gathered in his eyes, his chest growing heavier and tighter as if there was suddenly no air left for his lungs to grasp onto.

Blaine wondered if this is what it felt like to be drowning.

* * *

**You have 5 new messages. First new message. Message received today at eight fifty two am.**

_Hey Blaine, it's me. Kurt. Can you call me back when you get this message please? I wanted to catch you before you went off to the hospital... I'm worried about you and I need to know if everything's okay. I don't even know how your treatment is going or anything. I don't know how you're doing. So, please, just call me back._

**To listen to the message again, press one. To save it, press two. To delete, press three.**

**Message deleted. Next new message. Message received today at ten oh five am.**

_Look, it's me again. I feel stupid chasing you up like this but I can't handle it any more. If you don't call me back today, I'm coming around yours and not leaving until you see me. You have been warned._

**To listen to the message again, press one. To save it, pre-**

**Message deleted. Next new message. Message received today at twelve thirteen pm.**

_Blaine, please, I can't stand this. I need to know if you're oka-_

**Message deleted. Next new message. Message received today at two forty nine pm.**

_It's me aga-_

**Message deleted. Next new message. Message received today at three twenty one pm.**

_...I love you, Blaine._

**...To listen to the message again, press one. To save-**

**Message received today at three twenty one pm.**

_...I love you, Blaine._

**To listen to-**

**Message received today at three twenty one pm.**

_...I love you, Blaine._

**To li-**

**Message saved. No new messages.**

* * *

As promised, the next morning, Kurt sat neatly crosslegged on the pathway which led from Blaine's house to the pavement. The mailman gave him an odd look, the paperboy nearly crashed his bike into a tree and the curtains twitched on the neighbouring houses as people watched him through the cracks. He didn't move except tilt his chin a little high, pull his crossed arms in a little tighter and just sat where he was, defiant expression fixed upon his features.

Well, Blaine had been warned. And if he wanted to leave the house at all that day, he would have to end up speaking to Kurt.

It was easier to ignore him with the curtains shut and the front door locked and Blaine's thoughts drifting away as he lay curled up in bed, willing the silent boy to please leave and to please go away.

Things got a little harder to ignore when around 11 o'clock, Kurt, somehow, managed to acquire a megaphone and proceeded to yell for Blaine's attention and defiantly stating that he would not leave the pathway all day unless Blaine spoke to him... or if he were dragged away by the police. One or the other.

"Blaine, honey?" Blaine's mom tapped lightly on the door, entering with a basket full of freshly laundered clothing, her thick dark curls that tumbled down her shoulders pinned neatly back away from her face. She shuffled over to the chest of drawers where she slowly placed each garment into its correct location, back turned to Blaine who was currently laying face down on his duvet.

A muffled mumbling sound came from the pillow where Blaine's head hid, sounding closely like "Tell him to go away, I don't want to talk to him." Or something similar to those words.

"Sweetie, you've got to. He's just worried about you..." she perched on the edge of his bed and slowly ran her fingers through his curls, something that she would do when Blaine was little if he'd woken from a nightmare or if they were stuck inside due to a particularly bad thunderstorm. It always calmed him down and made him feel better... but at the end of the day, she couldn't cure all of this with a gentle, reassuring touch. As she pulled her hand away, she tried not to wince or cry as she found loose clumps of Blaine's curled hair tangled around her fingers.

"I know you don't want to and it's hard for you... but you need him. You may not realise it at the moment, or you're just being particularly stubborn today, but Kurt's your rock and he's going to help you through this... don't shut out everyone you love, Blaine. Because we're going to help you fight. Especially Kurt. Let him back in. For your sake." She gently pressed a kiss to his curls, right on the spot where his pale scalp was beginning to show through his thick hair. This was one of the things that Blaine was truly worried about: the loss of his hair. Because once it was gone, there was nothing to hide anymore. It was obvious what was wrong with him, what he was going through, and he really couldn't face the looks and the pointing and the hushed conversations behind the palms of hands. How could he feel normal when no one would treat him like it?

"I am serious, Blaine Anderson!" called Kurt's voice from the lawn outside his window, the sound magnified by the megaphone that was now causing the whole street to peek out of their doorways and curtains. "I am not leaving this spot until you come out and see me. I'll stay here all night if I have to!"

Blaine groaned loudly before pressing another pillow over his head, trying to muffle and blank out the cries from his all-too-caring best friend.

* * *

The sun had just gone down by the time that Blaine caved in. He'd been sitting at the window for a good while, studying the boy below him. The light from the living room window washed over him as Kurt sat still huddled over on the pathway, slumped over and head bowed, fingers clutching at his elbows as he shrank in upon himself. Even from where Blaine stood, he could see Kurt shaking and was unsure whether it was due to the cold or if the boy was crying.

Blaine sure hoped that it wasn't the latter.

Five minutes later, he found himself on the front porch, bundles of blankets tucked underneath one arm and a steaming mug of hot chocolate clasped in his free hand. He stood and watched the shaking back of the boy on the pathway, ice cold guilt washing over him in endless, crashing waves.

Blaine gently limped down the drive to where Kurt sat facing the neat hedges and pristine homes across the street, knees folded tightly against his chest. Lowering the extra blankets and mug to the floor, Blaine crouched and stretched out a single blanket, wrapping it lightly around Kurt's shoulders. The taller boy jumped at the contact, head swinging around to catch Blaine's small, sheepish smile.

As he settled down on the cold paving with his legs either side of Kurt's body, Kurt felt himself being pulled tightly into Blaine's body warmth, his back pressed against his chest. Another blanket wrapped over his now outstretched legs and a warm mug pushed into his hands, Kurt settled back into the solid body behind him, feeling a cheek pressed against his icy neck.

"I'm sorry..." Blaine whispered against his skin, warm breath sending shivers right down to Kurt's core. The shakes that racked his body seemed to be letting off a little, but the goosebumps on the exposed parts of his skin still sat raised and proud.

"I understand, Blaine," said Kurt, his voice stronger than expected. "I do. This is such a tough thing for someone your age to go through. I've just hated the thought of you sitting in that hospital bed and me not _knowing _how you are and what's going on and it's been kind of eating me up inside."

"Kurt, I'm sorry. I just didn't want you to see me like that... all weak and just... ugh. I'm so damn sorry, Kurt-" Blaine started but was quickly cut off with a hand to his thigh.

"Wait, Blaine. Don't. Don't be sorry. I just... I wanted to apologise too," Kurt's voice low as he placed the half full mug by Blaine's ankle and twisted into his arms to make eye contact with the poor, sick boy. "I'm sorry for bugging you this entire time and calling you and leaving you messages and... y'know... sitting out here all day with a damn megaphone."

They both laughed lightly at this, Blaine's eyes twinkling as he asked where Kurt had even managed to acquire it.

"I have my contacts. Irrelevant right now!" Kurt chuckled, swatting Blaine gently on the shoulder. "But yeah... I just couldn't sit by and leave you all on your own. I'm sorry for being too persistent... Just tell me if you need space in the future, okay?"

Blaine nodded lightly, just completely grateful that Kurt was still willing to stick by him, even when he became a little difficult or made things that little bit harder. They were barely in knee deep and things were already becoming tricky... but the water would get a hell of a lot deeper and a lot more treacherous and it was incredibly comforting and touching to know that Kurt would stay with him and put up with him throughout it all.

"Just don't completely shut me out, Blaine... you're putting all of this weight onto your shoulders and not letting anyone else take the load. Like I've told you before, it's not something that you have to do alone. You have a bunch of people who are willing to help you and look after you," Kurt leaned in and hesitated with his lips hovering over Blaine's skin, before gently pressing a kiss to his jaw. "I know you, Blaine. I know that you're feeling hopeless... probably hating yourself and blaming yourself for all of this... calling yourself a burden... you're none of those and none of this is your fault. It happens. Unfortunately, someone just gave you all the bad luck, huh?" He began to softly card his fingers through Blaine's hair, glasz eyes boring into his rich, brown ones. "But you _will_ get better... I hate seeing my best friend hurting like this. Just remember, you're not alone." As the moisture gathered around his eyes, Blaine leaned into the soft touch of Kurt's and sighed happily, finally feeling at ease for the first time in weeks. All because of Kurt.

* * *

"Are you honestly saying what I think you're saying?"

Both boys lay curled up in Blaine's bed later that night, playfully teasing whilst in the midst of a particularly ferocious game of poke wars, squirming and giggling loud enough for the whole house to hear.

Blaine jerked away from Kurt's index finger in his tummy, laughing as he shuffled away to the edge of the bed and trying to catch Kurt's hands before he'd be left with a permanent red mark on his stomach from his persistent jabbing.

"Yes! I'm not lying! It was having my second dose and the student nurse came in and started shamelessly flirting with me! I think you would've appreciated the look on her face after I told her that I was as straight as a roundabout."

The bed shook with their bout of laughter at this and fell into each other's arms, clutching each other hard, the picturesque image of two close best friends enjoying each other's company and just being... close.

"Oh my God, I _wish_I had been there! Next time, I can pretend to be your boyfriend, we can really get her going!" Kurt spluttered, cheeks slightly blushed with mirth. The laughter soon died on his lips at the look on the other boy's face. "Or-or not... stupid idea, okay..." The blush on his cheeks reddened as he hastened to clear his throat, eyes downcast.

The incredibly serious expression on Blaine's face looked out of place, his eyes not as expressive as Kurt was used to. "You can... you can come with me. Tomorrow. If you want, I mean... it does get lonely because Mom and Dad have to work an-and I don't blame them or anything because they have to work, they have no choice, but it does get lonely and books don't always keep my mind off of it so... but you have school and I understand that you should put your education first, I'll be alright-" the words tumbled out of Blaine's mouth in a rush, his fingers playing absentmindedly and awkwardly with the hem of Kurt's shirt.

"Blaine, shush," Kurt interjected, pulling Blaine's hands away to wrap his own around them. "Of course, I'll come with you. There's a Staff Development Day tomorrow anyway. Wes wanted to spend the whole day practicing with the Warblers but after a very heated argument that the Warblers deserved a chance to wind down after all the work we've done... with Trent shouting one of his random phrases again, the overuse of that damn gavel and Thad throwing his hands up and huffing every five minutes, they've let us have the day off."

Blaine fidgeted awkwardly at the mention of his school friends and his fellow Warblers. Truth be told, he hadn't thought of them since his first bout of chemotherapy. He was too weak to get himself to school each day, therefore had his school work and notes mailed to him by the school.

That strong sense of guilt was back. He hadn't told his friends about the cancer. How had his absence been explained to them? As if sensing what thoughts were on Blaine's mind, Kurt tapped the tip of his nose to grab his attention back.

"They don't know, Blaine, but you should tell them. They've been told that something's up with you because your mysterious absence needs to be explained somehow... but they understand and are giving you space until you're ready... but you should tell them soon though. They are your friends after all and having more people around to support you can't hurt." Kurt murmured, his fingers moving to smooth down the collar of Blaine's shirt, the tips of his fingers lingering on Blaine's neck long after he'd finished and feeling the ripple of his pulse along the skin.

Nodding, Blaine vowed to himself that he would get around to telling his friends, eventually. He needed to surround himself by the people he loves because he _does_need them and pushing everyone away was only going to hurt himself.

They lay in comfortable silence for a little while, listening to the cars pass in the street and the hum of the television downstairs in the living room. They shuffled around slightly until Blaine's head lay upon Kurt's chest, directly above his heart that steadily thumped in time with his own. Kurt's hand lay splayed around his waist, the slightest innocent touch of the fingertips against the inch of exposed skin above his waistband. It may have been the smallest of touches, but Blaine could feel the affection and the tenderness rolling off of Kurt, making him cling tighter to the boy beneath him and rub gentle circles against Kurt's chest with his thumb.

As Kurt sighed happily, Blaine's head rose and fell along with the movement of Kurt's chest, the deep, heavy beat of his heart clearer in Blaine's ear. His mind wondered, all Kurt related of course, and began thinking of those voicemails that he had been left. Blaine felt a little angered with himself for deleting half of them before listening but then remembered the lone one he hadn't deleted that still sat saved in his inbox. The one that he had listened to non-stop since he'd listened to it and still caused his breath to catch in the back of his throat.

Regardless if Kurt meant that he loved him as a friend or something more, Blaine just knew with every single fibre of his being and with every nerve in his body that he loved Kurt too... so damn much.

Before he knew it, and before he could stop himself, Blaine found himself murmuring into the soft fabric beneath his cheek.

"I love you too, by the way."

Shifting himself up onto his elbows, Kurt looked curiously down at the other boy. "Pardon?"

Slowly looking up into his eyes, Blaine fought to stop the heavy blush creeping up his neck and the fluttering of not just nerves in his stomach. "Th-that voicemail you sent me. The last one. I just... I love you too."

They both shared shy smiles as they clung that little bit tighter together, hands fisting in shirts and clutching limbs. Without breaking eye contact, Kurt leaned down to press his still slightly cold forehead against Blaine's and merely whispered the words _forever... until the very end_, his sweet breath washing over Blaine's face.

And as that niggling little voice at the back of his mind began to mock him that _the end is coming closer than you both think_, Blaine pushed it right down for the first time since his illness was discovered and revelled in this moment.

Because he had Kurt and right then, nothing else mattered.


	7. Find Comfort in Yourself

**Bit of a shorter chapter but the next chapter is the longest so far. It isn't a really significant chapter though but it was something that I really wanted to write. I'll probably post it next week because my grammar is grinding on me a little so I think I need to do some tweaking. Yeah sorry about the wait for this. It's pretty much been written a while but I've been stupidly busy (went back to college this week and had a ten hour shift at work today... always cool) so apologies for that. I'll try keep up with my writing but we'll see. Also apologies if my grammar is a little dodgy. It's no longer one of my strongest points.  
Note: Only just noticed that Nurse Murphy shares the same surname as our dear Ryan. I called her Nurse Murphy and, because I can imagine her as this nice motherly figure, I named her after a lady I work with whose surname is Murphy aha. Fun fact.**

**Anyway, thanks for being patient. I hope you enjoy. And if you did enjoy, please review. It doesn't take longer than a moment and it's always nice to know if your work is actually appreciated...**

* * *

**Glass Bones & Paper Skin**

**Chapter six: Find Comfort in Yourself **

* * *

"I know it's a hospital and all that... but I really can't appreciate this decor. Sickly green and white? _Please_."

Blaine laughed heartily to himself as he limped over to the bed, smoothing the stiff sheets down and propping the pillows against the rattling headboard before clambering on. It took him a couple of tries to push himself up properly and to settle down comfortably, stopping briefly to cough and retch for a moment. It was that damn cough again that he seemed to have developed in the past couple of days or so, probably due to how weak his body felt after all of these drugs... but he managed it eventually without straining his knee or, most importantly, completely embarrassing himself in front of Kurt. The other boy merely strode across the room and settled both their bags against the wall by the bed. He had insisted on being a gentleman and carrying Blaine's for him.

It took 20 minutes, a couple of bitchy glares from Kurt and Blaine's pot of hair gel being hidden before he finally gave in and agreed to let Kurt carry his things. Stubborn as a mule, that boy.

"Only you would be critical as to what hospital rooms look like, Hummel. I don't think they considered if it would compliment skin tones or bring out the colours of the eyes." Blaine teased wickedly, a smirk fixed on his face as Kurt settled himself in the mismatched leather chair by the bed.

"True..." Kurt murmured as he looked around the room. "If that were the case, this room would be painted in reds and such. I think those colours look best on you..." Noticing Blaine's raised eyebrow and the cheeky smirk still in place, Kurt cleared his throat quickly, colour flushing his cheeks. "Besides, I'm sure I could decorate it much better... Dior grey with a splash of colour here and there? Perfect."

Blaine snorted once again as the nurse walked in, wheeling Blaine's drip along behind her and followed by that particular student nurse which shamelessly flirted with him for the majority of his second session. A smug smile unwillingly slipped onto Kurt's face at the thought of it, _so glad he's on my team_wheeling through his head as he took in the younger nurse before turning to look at the other. The plump older nurse, Nurse Murphy, had that kind motherly face and an even kinder voice. She was one of those nurses that the whole ward fell in love with. One of her party tricks for the kids was hiding things in her mop of curly, red hair and it never failed to entertain. The student nurse, Emily, however, lingered in the doorway behind Nurse Murphy as she tried not to make eye contact with Blaine or even notice Kurt beside him. She merely flushed furiously and fiddled with the end of her long, blonde ponytail, eyes wheeling around the room but never seeming to settle on one given place for too long.

"Hello, Blainers! How's my favourite mop head today?" Nurse Murphy chuckled as she wheeled the drip next to Blaine, ruffling his unruly curls gently as he laughed.

"As good as I can be, Nurse Murphy, thank you." Blaine smiled up at her, his dapper Dalton boy colours shining through. Kurt rolled his eyes fondly watching the interaction between them both.

"I've told you time and time again, boy, call me Sarah!" she tweaked his nose gently before turning to Kurt, big beaming smile upon her rosy cheeks. "And who do we have here?"

"Hey, I'm Kurt," he answered shyly, shaking her outstretched hand and looking up into her gentle face. She was like one of those aunties that you always wished you had, the ones that always smiled and baked you cookies for no reason whatsoever.

"Ahhh, so _this _is the Kurt I've heard so much about!" Sarah turned back to Blaine, thumb pointing in Kurt's direction. "So he's the boyfriend?"

Colour shot into Kurt's cheeks at this and he rose the bottle of water in his hand to his lips, in order to hide the expression that had unwillingly appeared.

"Not yet," Blaine replied, only realising what had slipped out when Kurt spluttered and choked on his mouthful of water, Emily thumping him heavily on the back. "No! I mean... no! Friends. Just friends. Best friends even."

Sarah just stood and laughed heavily, smiling affectionately at the blush on both boys' cheeks and fiddled with a numbing patch, pushing Blaine's cardigan sleeve up to press the patch onto the inside of his elbow. He shuddered from the cold slightly, causing Kurt to snigger and earning him a swift kick in the arm with Blaine's good leg.

"How you been feeling lately, Blaine?" Sarah asked in all seriousness now, professional mode kicking in as she studied the boy on the bed. Blaine was such a sweet kid, and it hurt to see someone so young to be suffering from something such as cancer. The world was cruel, something she had known since medical school and especially since she watched all those adults, kids and teenagers alike wasting away on this cancer ward.

"Tired, not really keeping my food down, knee is constantly hurting and... and my hair's falling out," Blaine swallowed heavily, the words catching in the back of his throat. He looked down into his lap, at his hands clasped tightly together and tried to push that horrible feeling right back down to the pit of his stomach.

Kurt tilted his head slightly and noticed the signs that he hadn't fully noticed the night before. The signs of a cancer and chemotherapy patient. His skin looked a little paler than usual, with a slight yellow sickly tinge. His deep brown eyes sat slightly sunken within his sockets and his clothes sat a bit too loosely on his frame. Above all of this, Kurt was now able to see loose strands of hair clumped on Blaine's cardigan after Sarah's hair ruffle and could spy Blaine's pale scalp peeping through his mass of curls.

Shuffling forward to the edge of his seat, Kurt grabbed Blaine's free hand while Sarah and Emily inserted the drip into the other as Blaine sat distracted. As Kurt tilted Blaine's chin up to look him in the eye, he smiled, trying to ignore the tears pooling around those dark expressive eyes.

"I think you look beautiful, Blaine. With or without your hair."

Letting out a quiet sob, Blaine felt a single tear slip down his cheek as he pulled Kurt's hand to his lips and whispered a faint _thank you_ against his knuckles. Kurt shook his head in return, smiling as if to say _don't mention it_. Blaine was beautiful to him. And no matter what happened to him, he always would be.

"There we go," Sarah finally moved back from the drip and patted Blaine gently on the shoulder. "All done. We'll be back to check on you later and if you need us, the button's right there. Just call us."

With a slight wiggle of the fingers from Sarah and a quick smile from Emily, they departed the room with a soft _click_ as the door swung closed behind them. Blaine and Kurt didn't move, however. They remained frozen where they sat, the soft smiles still fixed in place and hands held tightly across the bed.

* * *

They sat together and talked for the whole session about everything and anything. The weather, music, the Warblers, school, Kurt's vast collection of McQueen and even football games. It felt great to talk about things that probably seemed just that little bit more meaningless now... that little bit more unimportant.

The words _cancer_ or _chemotherapy_ or _illness_ didn't come up once and Blaine felt silently gratitude towards Kurt who always seemed to know what was safe and what had a big red cross struck through it. Sometimes the conversation naturally shifted towards it, but with easy deflection such as _not now, Kurt, can we talk about something else?_ or _please don't_, the talk remained light and didn't scratch much of the surface.

"What's that you're writing?" Kurt finally asked with a curious tilt of the head. He had been watching Blaine fluently scrawl with his free hand (the hand with the drip in lay _very_loosely entwined with Kurt's on the bed) in a spiral emerald notepad rested upon his thighs since the beginning of the session. Blaine shifted slightly so Kurt couldn't see what was written in the already half filled pad and Kurt felt that little twinge of hurt in his chest.

_Stop it, Hummel. You need to start giving him space or he'll push you away completely. LAY OFF!_

Breathing deeply, albeit a little wheezily, and fixing a wobbly smiling in Kurt's direction, Blaine said "oh, Doctor Garrison and Nurse Murphy think that it would be a good idea to start writing my thoughts and feelings down. I don't want to talk to a counsellor or anything, I don't think it's necessary. But I thought I'd give writing a go. It is kind of my release right now."

Although he could tell that this wasn't the entire truth, Kurt decided not to press any further, quickly tuning back in to what Blaine had been saying as he shifted uncomfortably on the bed, trying to angle the book away from Kurt.

"-my best friend, Kurt, and I trust you with everything. I hope you don't feel offended that I'm not comfortable with you seeing what I've written. I trust you. I trust you with what I've written in here but... not yet. You'll read it soon enough...but not yet..." he trailed off, squeezing Kurt's hand as tightly as the drip permitted him to.

Kurt understood. He didn't blame Blaine and completely accepted his privacy. Completely. That wasn't to say that that notepad hadn't entirely sparked his curiosity.

* * *

It was the drive home when Blaine became unusually quiet, one hand toying with his phone and the other clutching a half full beaker of water. They'd had to pull over at least three times since the hospital to allow Blaine to throw up across the sidewalk. Kurt made a mental note to grab a couple of cardboard kidney bowls next time to keep in his car. Just in case.

After watching Blaine lock and unlock his phone for the past five minutes from the corner of his eye, Kurt gently lay his hand down upon his knee and made the smaller boy jump.

"Blaine, what's up?"

Shrugging a single shoulder, Blaine turned away to look out of the passenger window, clenching his fist tighter around the phone. "Nothing... I just want to call Wes and David but I don't know what to say..."

Simply, without even taking his eyes off the road, Kurt lifted his hand from Blaine's knee and gently touched his chest with his fingertips. "What is it telling you to say in here?"

Blaine remained still for a moment before once more unlocking his phone and quickly tapping out a number, shrinking back into his seat as he lifted it to his ear. Kurt could hear the dialling tone and it didn't ring for long when Wes answered with a loud shriek which sounded a little like Blaine's name.

"Hey Wes," Blaine answered tiredly, one hand hiding his face as he bowed his head. "I'm sorry for not calling, I... yeah, I'm fine... no, fine I'm not. Just – is David there with you? I need you both to hear this. Yeah, just... just get David please."

Kurt could hear Wes' and now David's excitable chatter down the phone, happy to finally be hearing from their friend. They clearly hadn't noticed the seriousness in Blaine's voice or the fact that he'd just outright said that he wasn't okay. Kurt remained looking out of the front windscreen, trying to give Blaine a little privacy and to pretend that he wasn't listening in whatsoever.

"Hi David, I just... I know, I'm sorry, I didn't... yeah... thanks... guys, just stop. Let me talk. I need to tell you something really important."

Letting out a long shaky breath, Blaine pushed his hand through his hair. "I've got cancer."

The silence was pretty deafening, Blaine becoming more unnerved as it grew longer and tenser.

It was finally broken as an "Oh, _Blaine_..." came from Wes at the end of the line. He quickly rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand before any escapee tears appeared, his fingers curled tightly into a fist.

"I'm sorry..."

"_Don't be sorry_." was immediately heard from the other end, David's voice loud in the otherwise quiet car, the soft purr of the engine not loud enough to block it out.

"Just... could you come over... please?" Blaine asked, voice lower and quieter as he clutched the phone with both hands. "I miss you."

"Of course," Kurt could hear a car being started up and a door being slammed. "We're on our way over now."

"We love you, Blaine, okay?"

"We're here for you, man." The boys said softly, their words simple and quiet, yet held so much reassurance and warmth for Blaine that he could feel it spreading from where the phone touched his ear, right down to the balls of his feet.

Kurt moved his hand to rest of Blaine's knee once again. One squeeze. _You've got all three of us_. Blaine felt so damn lucky to have friends like these.

"I love you too." Blaine whispered back before hanging up with a heavy sniff, face still turned out of the window.

With one more squeeze, Kurt moved his hand away and flicked on his iPod, fiddling with the dials on his stereo until _Somewhere_rung out from the speakers. "Come on. Our favourite musical. You, me, West Side Story. But I get to be Maria!"

Laughing, Blaine thumped Kurt on the shoulder. "It's not like I could hit those notes anyway... and true. Forever will be West Side Story."

"Don't forget Wicked."

"Like I would forget Wicked!" Blaine retorted and flicked the volume up louder as they both sung their hearts out, catching each other's gazes every now and again across the other side of the car. They sung louder every moment. Trying to forget what the lyrics of the song actually meant. Trying to forget the grey skies that had gathered and the cold drizzle outside. And, oh, trying to forget that one of them was possibly dying.


	8. Fraying All the Ends

**WHAT? LUCY UPDATING TWICE IN A WEEK? What's happening? I must be ill, clearly.**

** Anyway, yeah this is my longest chapter so far and I kind of have a soft spot for my boys in it. I apologise in advance if my grammar is crappy. I've tried to go over it and have rewritten chunks to make it less... jarring. But... yeah, I don't know.**

**Once again, this is for everyone who has stuck with me and this fic.**

**And reviews are always appreciated. And welcomed. I have a hell of a lot more people subscribed to this than I thought ever would (and more people asking me to carry this story on than I thought even would too) and I would just love it if anyone who reads this can give me some form of feedback for it. Because I will admit it's a little disappointing when you wake up to an empty inbox haha.**

**But anyway, yeah. Thank you if you've stuck with me.**

* * *

**Glass Bones & Paper Skin**

**Chapter seven: Fraying All the Ends**

* * *

The rest of the week flickered past in brief flashes of recollections of those pale hospital walls, a mop of curly red hair, stethoscopes and drugs. Whilst Blaine's parents worked, Kurt would drive to pick Blaine up during his free periods or half days and take him to his chemo sessions, keeping him company for those hours full of vomiting and even stayed by his side as he fell into light slumbers more and more regularly.

Sometimes Blaine felt awful for dragging Kurt into this world of his.

That ridiculous thought of _I'm being everyone's burden_continuously began to pop back into his head and being a vegetable in his bed every day was beginning to become tediously boring. Shuffling down the ward holding onto his drip became a regular occurrence, and besides... the one room was beginning to look a teeny bit repetitive.

It was a couple of days after Kurt came with Blaine for the first time. Kurt had been down to the hospital's cafeteria to buy them both coffee (it wasn't any exotic coffee that he was used to but it would have to do) and on his return, caught the sick boy limping off to the bathroom, tugging his drip along. He didn't really like to leave Blaine alone to walk around the hospital. The drugs were really taking their toll on him by now and he couldn't really walk very far unassisted. And Blaine falling would be disastrous... his weak, fragile glass bones already splintering from the strain. He just didn't have the strength to be able to heal something like that.

Depositing the coffee cups in Blaine's room, he wandered down the room to the toilets and showers, gently pushing the main door open into the room. From where he stood, Kurt could see Blaine standing at the sinks, gazing at his identical reflection in the mirror before him. There was a look on his face that Kurt had never seen before, and didn't ever want to see again, and it was only of pure disgust and loathing. Kurt watched in silence as Blaine fumbled with the thin curls on his head, trying to assemble them in a way as to hide the scalp which had successfully managed to completely show its way through.

Blaine had that stubborn streak which he always insisted he didn't have. How coincidental. He always claimed that Kurt was stubborn (fine, its true) but he always liked to think that he was one of the least stubborn people out there.

Kurt begged to differ. Each day a nurse popped into the room and asked Blaine whether today was the day that he would like to shave his head. And every time it was the same old answer. _No, just... no_. After Kurt's extensive research over the internet (which left him trailing forums at 2 in the morning), various other cancer patients told him that at the end of the day, shaving the head would stop drawing out the pain that losing it caused. By shaving it yourself, it helped you to get over the loss and the change quicker. Yet, as it naturally fell out, it felt worse. And Kurt just wanted Blaine feel the  
least amount of pain possible.

Sometimes talking to these other cancer patients, or even family and friends of them, Kurt found himself coping better. He knew what to expect, what to do, how to react. He knew how to treat Blaine, understood how he felt. And it gave him hope that yes, other people had survived it. Even with the slimmest of chances. If they had, Blaine would too.

None of those people on the forums had prepared him for the feeling in his chest that hit him as he watched Blaine sneer into his reflection. He could see the burning loathing in his eyes. The disgust. And Kurt just wanted to take that all away from him, gather it his arms and push it into his own chest, so he would feel it all instead. Rather himself than Blaine.

He watched Blaine hopelessly play with his hair, pushing it this way and that way before finally letting out a broken sob as he spotted his own fallen hair already lying in the sink.

Kurt couldn't bare it anymore and just returned to Blaine's room, settling into his usual chair and trying to rearrange his own face into something a little more composed for his return.

* * *

By the next afternoon, Kurt's face was plastered over the halls of McKinley and Dalton. Although the wording on the posters sat a little differently, they still screamed the exact same thing.

Kurt Hummel was going to shave his head.

As he wandered through the corridors of his old school, Kurt listened to the whispers that drifted from the gossipers by the lockers, catching glimpses of _Did you see that poster? Kurt Hummel is going bald!_ and _I really don't think he could rock a shaved head..._ and _he's doing it to help a sick friend. That's so cute!_ to_Hummel's goin' bald? I will definitely pay to see that!_

That was his aim at the end of the day... to raise money for teenage cancer charities and to help pay Blaine's medical bills and his health insurance. Because after all that chemo and possible radiotherapy and surgery... well, let's just say the Anderson family would be paying that back for years to come. He had decided early on that when Blaine lost his hair, he would too. Kurt knew that it would be something hard for Blaine to go through and he thought that maybe this would soften the blow. Making the most of it and collecting for charity was a bonus on the side.

Collection boxes sat in every classroom, posters pinned up in every corridor. And for once, the student body of McKinley High was nothing but generous and caring. He received pats on the back as he walked past, some _good lucks_ and _I hope he gets better_whispered his way. Well, who knew that these kids had good bones in their bodies?

Although Dalton didn't know about Blaine's illness (bar the Warblers after Blaine had finally gotten around to telling them... there were just as many tears from when Wes and David met with Blaine as there had been when Kurt found out), so Kurt had to downplay his posters a little. They just read that he was shaving his head for charity and that contributions would really be appreciated. With Dalton teeming with rich boys with access to Bank of Daddy, Kurt couldn't resist placing a few collection boxes here and there in hopes that maybe they would give a helping hand.

When Kurt returned to McKinley after a few days to retrieve the collection pots and had checked on Dalton's own, he was surprised to see that, not only were they over flowing, but in some places, the boxes had been replaced by buckets because it seemed that the schools were feeling particularly generous recently.

It was the hefty cheques that both Wes and David had left in one of those buckets, each with a note stapled on it to Kurt to thank him for everything he had done for Blaine, which made the lump really come to his throat. Blaine really did have some special people in his life who were all there and willing to help him through the battlefield.

But anyway, it was then official. Kurt Hummel was indeed going bald.

* * *

"Blaine."

The boy's eyes flickered up from where they gazed at the foot of the bed at the sound of the voice, giving a moment to let his eyes refocus on Kurt who stood before him with his hands on his hips, head tilted to the right.

"Sorry... what were you saying?"

Sighing, but in a quite endearing way rather than exasperated, Kurt grabbed one of Blaine's hands which lay in his lap. Tugging gently, he urged the older boy to his feet and steered him towards Kurt's vanity before gently pushing him down onto the stool, trying not to notice Blaine's grunt of pain as he settled down.

"We've got some stuff to do, Blaine." Kurt murmured as he pulled a grocery bag from one of the many drawers. Resting it on the top, he slowly pulled the contents out and laying it upon the side. A shaver.

"No! Nonononono!" Blaine tried to scramble to his feet but Kurt held him down with a firm hand, eyebrows furrowed slightly. Blaine just merely stared at the shaver on the side, looking as if the thing had suddenly grown fangs and was threatening to chomp off his arm.  
"Look, Blaine," Kurt started, crouching down in front of him and holding both of his hands in his. "I know you don't want to do this. But I've spoken to other cancer patients. I've been up all night, each night trawling the internet to find out as much as I can about your cancer, your treatment, even that cough you've picked up. And along the way, I've found these other patients and survivors. I've spoken to them and they've helped me, Blaine. And they can really help you too." He reached up a hand to brush aside a curl that lay over Blaine's eyes as he looked down at his lap, unable to look Kurt in the eye. "They've told me that getting rid of your hair yourself helps to... cut down the suffering, shall we say. It's hard to watch it all fall out and doing it yourself helps you mentally. It gets you back in control. Of yourself, your disease... it's giving you back that control that you let go of once you were diagnosed."

Reaching back around Blaine, Kurt pulled the shaver from the side and pressed it softly into Blaine's hand, his own hand closing around them. He tried to look into Blaine's eyes as he carried on talking, yet the boy looked defiantly away, his face hidden by the mop of hair which had grown out of control.

"So if you're okay with it, we're going to shave your hair off, Blaine. It's going to be hard for you. But I really think that it could make you feel better."

Without looking up, Blaine slowly turned on the stool until the mirror sat in front of him, the shaver still held tightly in both of his hands. Taking this as the go ahead, Kurt lay down the sheets which he'd left piled at the side upon the floor and around Blaine's shoulders, ready to catch the curls as they fell.

As he looked up into the mirror, Kurt caught the defiance on Blaine's face. Sometimes it was hard to know whether it was real determination or the shield that he liked to pull up like a barrier, to hide behind and pretend that everything was okay. Sometimes it was just hard to know.

Raising the shaver, Blaine used his thumb to flick it on and used his free hand to push his curls back, exposing the roots. But as he brought it closer, his hand begun to shake and he flicked the hand held machine off, sighing heavily.

"Can... can you do it, please?" he whispered, holding the shaver over his shoulder, eyes once again downcast. Blaine fought to keep the tears that had sprung up in his eyes at bay. He wasn't going to give the cancer the satisfaction of him crying once a-fucking-gain.

Blaine sat in silence as Kurt went to work with his hair. He tried to ignore the buzzing of the shaver. The hair that he could feel tumbling down his shoulders. The gentle scrape on his scalp. The lightness of his head and the breeze that he could now feel across his exposed skin. Instead, he focused on Kurt's hands. The gentle, compassionate touches of his fingertips on his head, his cheeks, his jaw, his neck. It was like Kurt was trying to make this better with his touch. And it was working. It was as if Kurt always knew what to do, always knew what Blaine needed to make him feel better. And it was something that he was completely grateful for. He didn't need to ask, Kurt just _sensed _it and Blaine was sure that it was his fourth gift, regardless of the fact that he insisted that he only had three. His beautiful songbird voice, his ability to spot trends in both men's (and women's) fashion and the ability to know when someone's hair colour was indeed fake and had come from a bottle of dye. But this... this was Blaine's favourite gift of Kurt's.

Blaine was so lost in the other boy's hands that he didn't notice when he was done, only snapping out of his reverie when the buzzing from the shaver abruptly stopped. Slowly looking up into the mirror, he froze as he took in his new appearance. His hair was completely gone, bar a very slight fuzz of pale hair left over. He presumed that this would completely fall out soon enough. It was a horrible sight. Nothing could have prepared him for the feeling at the pit of his stomach that just leapt upon him suddenly. It was like... that reflection wasn't him. It couldn't be. First of all, his hair no longer existed. There were the dark marks under his eyes and that sickly tinge to his skin and the way that his cheekbones were just that little bit clearer and his eyes were that little bit more sunken than they used to be, highlighting that dull glow in them that seemed to be dimming with each passing day. His eyebrows were also thinning (something that his eighth grade self would actually be cheering about) and his once thick, long eyelashes that framed his rich eyes were falling out one by one. He couldn't see his arms as, not only due to the wintery weather, he'd taken to wearing long sleeved shirts for this very reason but he knew that there would be less hair there than he could ever remember there being. His legs would be the same, his chest, even in the most intimate of places and it just felt... wrong. He just felt wrong. But wasn't this what it was meant to feel like? Wasn't he meant to feel that little bit incorrect because, let's face it, who can feel right and okay in a situation like this?

Blaine knew that he was sick. He'd known for a while. But watching yourself waste away through the reflection in a piece of glass just didn't make things any easier. It only made you realise just how serious and just how hard that everything was becoming or was going to become. And that you that your life was reaching what possibly may be it's end, looming closer by every passing moment.

Raising a shaky hand to gently touch his face on the smooth, cold surface, Blaine tilted his head a little as his father's voice rung through his mind, gentle but with that hint of sadness. _I know, Blaine. I know. Life isn't fair. But we're just going to have to live with it, son._

Life isn't fair? God, how he knew it.

He just hoped that Kurt was right, that getting rid of his thinning hair would make things a tad bit easier. But he never had reason to doubt his best friend in the past, so he wasn't going to start now.

Two soft hands lightly touched at Blaine's shoulders before he felt the press of Kurt's lips to the top of his newly exposed head, his eyes flickering to watch Kurt rest his cheek against his skin and gaze at him in the mirror. The warmth radiating from that single look just made him want to kiss Kurt senseless and whisper _thank you, thank you, thank you_against his pink, plump lips.

Pulling away, Kurt softly tapped at Blaine's upper arm, as if nudging him to his feet. Brushing any stray hairs from the sheet on his shoulders onto the one on the floor, Blaine slid from the vanity stool and rose, slipping the sheet from himself and handing it to the other. He tried not to look at the curls on the floor as he stepped over the mess so as not to get his own hair on his socks and spread it across the room in a way that he knew would have Kurt hanging him up by his ankles. Blaine half expected Kurt to frantically tidy up after him, his hint of OCD to kick in at the mess of his room and ushering Blaine out of the way to get it all cleared away.

What Blaine _didn't_ expect was for Kurt to swing the sheet around his own shoulders, making sure that every single bit of his outfit was covered and to _then_pick up the shaver from the side. His hand remained sturdy, unblemished intent etched upon his face. He raised the shaver and had it turned on before Blaine had even realised what was happening.

"NO! Kurt! Stop it!" Blaine leant over Kurt's shoulder to snatch the object from his hand but he merely held it from Blaine's reach, surprisingly patient.

"Blaine. Please. I've made up my mind and I'm doing it." Kurt flicked the machine back to life and Blaine lunged for it again.

"Don't be _stupid_, Kurt!" he was yelling now, his voice high and breaking slightly as he begun to get worked up. The heavy weight in the pit of his stomach screamed _he's done enough for me already!_and Blaine just couldn't let him do it. He just couldn't. "You love you hair, Kurt. You don't have to do this for me! I'm fine, alright? Just don't, just please don't."

A sob was rising in his chest and it was just _so damn important_ to him to stop Kurt from doing it because this change was too much already and he couldn't cope with that on top of it and he never wanted Kurt to change, _never_... not even with something like this...

Calmly, Kurt placed the shaver down on the surface before pulling out the drawer to his right. His hand resurfaced from it with a grey rectangular piece of paper and passed it to Blaine, all without actually looking at him. Blaine looked down at it, reading it and rereading it and rereading it and not understanding it and rereading again and _oh God, look at all those figures_ and _what the hell does this even mean?_

"It's a cheque," Kurt answered quietly, as if hearing all of Blaine's thoughts. "I put up posters in Dalton and McKinley saying that I'll be shaving my head for charity. McKinley was very eager to see me bald, whilst Dalton was just eager to do some good. It's also for any bills that you need help paying because this all definitely can't be cheap and I just wanted to help."

"You-," Blaine choked on his words, pausing to swallow down the heavy emotion which seemed to have clotted his throat. "You did this for me?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I did," answered Kurt quietly, slowly turning his head to finally look up at Blaine. "It's something I thought long and hard about. I haven't decided this on a whim. It's not a snap decision. There are just some things that are important in life and some things that aren't. This is something I need, and really want, to do."

Slowly and reluctantly, Blaine placed the piece of paper back on the surface of the vanity. Taking two steps backwards, he gave a slight nod to give Kurt the go ahead. With no time to lose, Kurt instantly shaved a strip into the side of his head directly above his ear and completely exposing the skin. Blaine watched Kurt's beautiful chestnut locks tumble down around him and flutter slowly to the floor as he stood hunched over watching the taller boy, his arms wrapped around his middle to hug himself tightly. All Kurt ever done was give. It's all he'd ever done his whole life. And Blaine couldn't take it that right then. Kurt was just giving, giving, giving and he was taking, taking, taking. He couldn't stand that.

But instead of doing anything to change that, Blaine just stood and looked at the boy who was shedding his hair on his own accord and just wished that he could be a little bit more like him.

_Where is your so-called courage now, Anderson?_

When Kurt's hair had finally and completely gone, he placed the shaver down and just lay his hands gingerly on his jean clad knees. Instead of looking at Blaine, Kurt just gazed into his reflection and seemed to be doing some deep breathing, the shudder as he breathed out each time showed that hint of hysteria that was clearly bubbling up inside of him.

Rushing over, Blaine brushed the hair away which still settled on his shoulders and tugged the sheet away, laying it on the floor amongst the mess. He squeezed onto the stool next to the other boy and grabbed one of his hands, fingers slowly intertwining. Blaine's other hand grasped at the back of Kurt's head, turning him to face him. There were already tears sliding down his porcelain cheeks and he attempted a weak smile but not quite managing to tug both corners up.

There was no regret for what he'd just done, but that didn't make any of this any easier.

Kurt brushed the tips of his fingers across Blaine's scalp and pulled back slightly to make eye contact with the other boy, a slightly sad look on his face. "Yep, still beautiful," he paused, forcing a smile upon his face instead. "Even if you are a baldy."

Leaning forward, Blaine pressed his forehead against Kurt's, both of their breaths mingling as they both begun to sob and laugh and cry at the same time. They looked ridiculous. Felt even more so. They weren't sure _why_exactly they were laughing, though. It wasn't funny. There was nothing to laugh about any more.

"Thank you, Kurt," Blaine whispered after they'd both calmed, foreheads still pressed together. Their breaths remained shaky though, fingertips trembling slightly as they tentatively touched the back of each other's heads, fingers ghosting over skin in a touch beyond gentle.  
"You're my best friend, Blaine. I'd do anything for you," he murmured back, hand falling to rest upon the left side of Blaine's chest.

"Anything."

Letting out a weak sob, Blaine lay a hand over Kurt's upon his chest, squeezing tightly, willing Kurt to understand everything he was trying to convey in that one touch. _You're so damn brave, Kurt. I just wish that I could be a little bit more like you... you were never the one who needed courage. It was me. It was always me._

_Just... thank you. So much._

_Fuck, I love you._

"You're – you're my best friend too... b-but... I just – I just w-_wish_-" the remaining _that you could be more_was lost to a sea of tears. Each sob racked at his body as he sat with his hands clutching tightly in the front of Kurt's shirt.

_Please. Please understand. Please. I wish you could be more. I wish you could be so bad. You don't deserve this. I don't deserve you. Not like this. Not when I'm like this. I... God, Kurt. I'm sorry. I'm-_

"-so fucking sorry. I'm so sorry, Kurt. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm _sorry_." He wailed as he pressed his bare forehead into Kurt's collar bone as Kurt gently pulled his legs over his lap and cradled him like a mother would cradle her child after he'd awoken from a nightmare, crawling into her bed to seek comfort and love from the circle of her arms. But this was real and it was a hell of a lot worse than any figment of any child's imagination, any dark shadow and any monster hiding in the closet.

_I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..._

It took an hour for Blaine to exhaust and cry himself to sleep in Kurt's arms on the stool, quietly sobbing his chant of _I'm sorry_s until the words had been replaced by his heavy breathing. His face looked a lot more relaxed yet still incredibly pained in his sleep, as if his frown were the only expression his face knew now. Kurt stumbled to his feet and carried Blaine successfully to his bed, shocked at how light and fragile he felt beneath his palms, and lowered him slowly to the sheets. He automatically moved to card his fingers through Blaine's messy curls but settled with stroking his forehead with his thumb instead.

And as he watched the tension work itself away from his features, once again just from his simple touch, Kurt pressed his forehead into the crook in Blaine neck and let out a single, almost silent, broken sob.

_I'm so sorry, too._

* * *

**I forever appreciate reviews! Thank you!**


	9. ANOTHER AUTHOR'S NOTE

**I always feel bad when this happens, when I post a new chapter and it's NOT a chapter, but an author's note. I'm sorry but there's no other ways to let you guys know!**

**First of all, YES I am carrying on this story. I know I had my doubts but no, I'm carrying it on. Sometimes I feel awful because I don't update or I take forever to write it but even if I lost all of you readers and only had one left, I would still carry on now. For myself and that one person. So my lack of update doesn't mean I've given up.**

**I just wanted to apologise for leaving this for so long and I have reasons why. I've gone back to year 13 before I go off to university and the work load is stupid. I'm expected to do three hours work a night, which is ridiculous when sometimes, I have only three hours until I go to bed by the time I get home. I have three very coursework based subjects, as well as teaching drama classes, learning for my driving theory test, actual driving lessons, uni applications and my part time job. Add a very small social life onto that and I simply have no time to write. And it makes me sad that I can't, because I miss these boys and I miss you guys and I just want to write write write!**

**So, I have a week off in a couple of weeks. Which, if I manage to finish my work early on, will leave me time to write this. Just to let you know that I haven't forgotten about this and I haven't forgotten about you. Next chapter will be up by the end of the month, I promise.**

**Stick with me, okay? :)**


	10. Pain Has Made You Strong

**Well, lookee here! A chapter!**

**This nearly didn't happen. I was THIS far away from stopping writing this fic because damn, writer's block and running out of time and having too much work. But after complaining on Tumblr (same URL over there!), _radioactivesunflower _made me want to write more so thank you so, so much! And I felt properly inspired by my friend Caz to write some more, as she'd just started reading my stuff and text me telling me that she liked this. We chatted a bit and idk, something lifted and I wrote this yesterday! Thank you times a billion bb, this one is dedicated to you for being amazing and for being one of the most special people in my life, regardless of distance.**

**I just wanted to thank everyone else who has stuck with me. Everyone who has subscribed, favourited and especially you guys who take the time to review and let me know what you think. Thank you. I know I don't ever get around to messaging you back because I am SO forgetful but I honestly really appreciate you from the bottom of my heart.**

**So, enjoy. Let me know your thoughts! And sorry if it's not a very strong chapter, still fighting the last of the block away.**

**XO**

**PS the hat Kurt is wearing is that gorgeous hat he wears in _Furt_. I want it so bad!**

* * *

**Glass Bones & Paper Skin**

**Chapter eight: Pain Has Made You Strong**

* * *

When something like this happens... as in cancer... things start to feel a little different.

It was coming up to Christmas. The ward was decorated top to bottom. Sarah had begun to don holly leaves in her curly hair, Blaine's newly assigned wheelchair due to his weakened state had been decorated with tinsel and some _smartass _had so cleverly hung mistletoe up between Blaine's bed and the chair where Kurt would sit every time. _Funny. Real funny..._

Whilst everyone else wanted to make a big deal out of Christmas this year (and even more so, especially with the underlying thoughts of _maybe this is the last Christmas he'll ever see_) but Blaine didn't want that. He really didn't. Either Christmas was to be treated the same as every year or it wasn't to be celebrated at all, in Blaine's case.

"If this is the last Christmas I get to see, I don't want to be showered with things that I don't need any more. Thank you, Mom, Dad, but... spend the money on Lily or something. She has the rest of her life ahead of her... I possibly don't."

It was a wonder how Blaine managed to just slip things like that casually into conversation, nowadays. It was almost as if he'd come to terms with it. But come to terms with what, exactly?

"How about- how about a wig or something, honey? We know it's not the same as your real hair, and it won't look exact, but we can look into if you want us to..." Lea, Blaine's mom, said as she reached across the dinner table to hold his hand.

Squeezing her hand in return gratefully, Blaine set down his fork and ran his now spare hand over his entirely bald head. "No. No, that's okay. Thanks, anyway. Cancer isn't something that you can be exactly ashamed of because, at the end of the day, it's not anyone's fault if they get it. I'm not ashamed of it, not anymore, so I'm not going to hide it. Besides," he shrugged a little, picking his fork back up and spearing a piece of meat with it. "Kurt's bald too so I don't feel so alone."

His parent's had been shocked to say the least when he'd come home with a bald head and dried tears on his cheeks, telling them how Kurt had selflessly shaved his own head. Shocked was a little bit of an understatement really, when they both knew how much pride Kurt took in his appearance. But that didn't mean that they weren't grateful too. So grateful that Lea had stolen Kurt's number from Blaine's phone to quickly shoot a text, explaining how she'd gotten his number and how she was proud of what he had done for her little boy. They exchanged a few heartfelt pleasantries, nothing _too _deep but it made Lea felt somewhat _reassured _that her boy was in safe hands.

Well, she'd always known that. She'd never had any reason not to doubt Kurt. If that look in his eyes whenever he looked at Blaine was anything to go by.

So Christmas day zipped past with laughter filled meals and wrapping paper fights and snowman building and wheelchair racing and trips to see the distant relatives and even a stop off at Kurt's house for a bit for the hug and present exchange (even though Blaine had argued against it but Kurt insisted that he'd already bought his gifts before Blaine had brought up the 'no present rule' and had since lost the receipts... likely story).

"So, have you had a good day?" Kurt smiled into Blaine's skin from where his head rested on his shoulder. They were sitting in the corner against the wall decorating Blaine's wheelchair with stickers from Blaine's present from Kurt aka 'Kurt Hummel's Awesome Box of Christmas fun', whilst their parents sat conversing over mulberry wine at the kitchen table and Finn pretended to lose playing video games with Lily. Blaine peeled off another sticker from the packet and stuck it on the arm, rubbing his thumb repeatedly over it until it stuck, before shuffling closer to Kurt. The taller boy tangled their fingers together and pulled Blaine in closer.

"It's been okay. Much better now that you're here," Blaine whispered, burying his face into Kurt's collar. He tried not to breathe too heavily as to give the game away that he was secretly smelling Kurt's skin, the scent of whatever cologne Father Christmas had delivered laying thick and sweet in the air.

"I have that effect of making everyone's days greater, huh?" he smirked in return, swiftly pulling off a sparkling sticker and attaching it to Blaine's bald scalp.

"HEY!" Blaine protested, before retaliating and sticking a left over ribbon off the box to Kurt's own bald scalp. Cue the most intense sticker fight known to the Hudmel household, causing their parents to poke their heads around the doorway to see what was going on and Finn to abandon his game as he watched them, mouth agape.

It was times like those when it was easy to forget that cancer even existed. It was just them and only them.

* * *

"Sooooo..." Kurt sang, elbows planted firmly on the edge of Blaine's dining table, chin rested in his palms.

"Soooo?" Blaine sung back with laughter, finally closing his notebook and slipping his pen into the rings. Things had felt a bit more cheerful since Christmas and since Blaine had received his good news.

"How do you feel? I mean, ugh, this news is great. Wonderful, even."

"Relieved, mainly. But I feel like something bad is going to happen to cancel out the good. I still need to get my cough checked out and I know that that can't be good news in itself," Blaine sighed, twisting in his chairs to face Kurt properly. "But no, I feel better, I guess. It's been a while since Doctor Garrison came in with a smile on his face, rather than a grave one."

"Maybe this is where things begin to go uphill. Your biopsy results coming back and the lump in your shoulder being a benign cyst is the first step. Then your tumour is going to shrink, your surgery will be a success and then," Kurt grabbed Blaine's hands excitedly, holding them under his chin and resting his head upon them once again. "You're going to be in remission."

Blaine's eyes slipped shut at this as he considered blissfully a life once again without cancer. Remission. How far away that seems but it seems... plausible. It could happen. The cancer could go. He just wanted that day to come sooner than later.

His eyelids flickered a little as he thought deeper. A life without cancer. A life where he and Kurt could be together. If Kurt wanted that, of course, and if he even loved him in that way. They could be a couple. Images of the two of them older, living in a stylish studio apartment in New York as the streets bustled heavily below them with businessmen and tourists fighting their way through the crowds flashed through his mind. Even older. Matching tuxes and buttonhole carnations. White gold wedding rings. Crying mothers with white handkerchiefs. _I dos_ and their first dance. The whole still and curled up on the couch together under a single duvet, a silly comedy on the telly that neither could concentrate on as they watched the flashing baby monitor on the coffee table in front of them with smiles on their faces. Blaine wanted it. Blaine needed it. And God, how he wanted this cancer to be gone, just so he could finally live the life he always dreamed of with Kurt by his side and in his heart.

It was going to happen. Someday.

A smile crossed his face as he opened his eyes, brown meeting ice blue. Kurt's face was one of innocence, of happiness, of... adoration? Love? Was he just imagining it after his little vision?

"What?" Blaine croaked softly, smile still fixed upon his face. Smiling? My, how he could get used to this.

"Nothing. Nothing," Kurt smiled back, grip on his hands tightening by a fraction. How he just wanted to keep that smile on Blaine's face forever... it made his heart ache in all the good ways, his stomach fluttering in an entirely comfortable way as he pulled the boy in the chair closer to him. He wondered if he and Blaine could be together once this was all over. _If Blaine even wants me like that, that is. _But he was going to sit and wait patiently before broaching the subject, because they have forever after all. Blaine had forever. It was all going to be okay. "I was just thinking."

"About what?" Blaine whispered into the still, quiet air around them, his head tilted at a curious angle as his eyes searched Kurt's.

"You."

As Blaine's smile grew to one of his old dazzling smiles and Kurt felt his stomach settle a little. He couldn't wait for Blaine to smile like that again, all day, every day.

* * *

The New Year rolled in quietly for them both with gentle albeit awkward cheek kisses when the ball dropped, with blankets around their shoulders as they sat huddled on Blaine's patio watching neighbouring firework displays. It wasn't extravagant, but it was nice, nonetheless.

That day, Blaine returned to the hospital for more treatment. But rather than just chemotherapy this time, Doctor Garrison had booked him in for radiation therapy too for a couple of weeks. Whilst Blaine was fed up of the treatment and just wanted the surgery to get this damn lump out, he grinned and bared it because, after all, there was nothing he could do about it. If he had no treatment, then the tumour wouldn't even shrink.

So whilst everyone else was celebrating the New Year with family meals and gatherings, Blaine was being treated to a nice heaping plate of medicines and drugs. And he was _dreading _it.

Although Blaine had insisted Kurt not to bother, to stay home with his family and celebrate, the boy still pulled up outside his house on the dot to drive him to the hospital.

"You didn't have to do this," called Blaine from the passenger seat as Kurt safely stowed Blaine's colourful wheelchair (now with added confetti streamers on the handles) in the trunk. "You can't even come into the radiotherapy bit with me, I don't want you to be bored."

"I have a book with me, chill. I won't get bored." Kurt smiled as he slid behind the steering wheel, reaching over to pat Blaine's hand which rested on his knee. It was especially cold out today, so they both donned hats. Blaine a beanie, Kurt his favourite black and grey hat with earflaps included. His hair had grown back a little, covering his scalp in stubble and Kurt had insisted that he'd shave it back off. _If I'm going to be bald, I'm going to do it right_ was all he had said when Blaine broached the subject.

"I'll be the one getting bored, then," grumbled Blaine, sliding down in his seat like a sulking child. "They won't even let me read or write in my notebook. I can't deal with it."

Smirking down at the frowning boy, Kurt indicated his messenger bag laying in the backseat with the nod of his head. "Well, I have a present for you to keep you occupied."

"Kurt... you didn't have-"

"Shut up, Anderson," he coughed, looking straight ahead at the road before switching on the left indicator.

"Yes, sir!" Blaine laughed before pulling himself back up into a comfortable sitting position, admiring Kurt's profile as he drove. Sometimes he wondered if he actually knew how beautiful he was. Because, while Kurt had a confident air about him when he walked down the hallways or stalked through the mall picking out outfits for Blaine left right and centre, Blaine was the one who had seen him at his lowest, as he sat across the table in Dalton's common room with a coffee cup in one hand and a balled up tissue clasped in the other. Blaine sometimes saw how insecure he could be, catching sight of it under that strong show of his. Blaine promised to himself that he would tell Kurt it soon. How beautiful he is. And he vowed to tell him every day if they got together. Every damn day.

Blushing under his scrutiny, Kurt pulled the car into the parking lot, unbuckling his seatbelt quickly and hopping out to get Blaine's wheelchair and to help Blaine down from the seat of his Navigator without falling and fracturing a few bones. They didn't need that on top of their problems. Although he would have relished writing rude things on his cast when Blaine was sleeping.

As Kurt pushed Blaine through the automatic doors, they were both red cheeked and a little out of breath after crazily swerving through the parking, spins and all. The nurses took over Blaine's chair from there, directing them both towards the radiation therapy room. After a hushed conversation with the nurse, Kurt pushed something into her hand which Blaine couldn't really see properly and gave her a hearty wink. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously up at his best friend, indicating with his hands that he was keeping a close eye on him. Kurt just laughed, an overly angelic expression on his face with feigned innocence.

Squeezing Blaine's shoulder gently with a smile, Kurt walked away and settled down on the hard plastic chairs of the waiting room, book already pulled from his bag with the bookmark buried right in the centre of its pages. Within seconds, his face was hidden and his attention drawn into the words of fiction. Blaine just watched him fondly before pushing himself out of the chair and limping slowly after the nurse into the room.

She explained the machine to him as Blaine lowered himself onto his back on the bench. He wasn't listening very well. The whole contraption looked... scary. Overwhelming. He didn't want to do this. He could back out now, right?

The machine lowered down around him and he whimpered, not returning the reassuring smile of the nurse as she left the room. The lights flickered out. The whirring of the machine was the only thing he could hear as it began to rotate around him, like some sort of weird, alien contraption. He wanted out. He didn't like this. Chemotherapy was one thing, but this was entirely different and he already hated it. His chest felt tight, his stomach was cramping like he was going to be sick.

_Get me out, get me out, get me out!_

"I'm just behind this screen, Blaine," the nurse voice rang out from what sounded like speakers in the corner of the room. "So I can talk to you by this microphone. Just relax, you're only going to be in here for half hour tops."

"I don't like it," Blaine whimpered quietly, barely audible over the rotation of the machine. "I want Kurt." He felt and sounded like a child but he realised he didn't have it in him to really care anymore.

"Is Kurt that boy from outside?" the nurse asked, trying to keep Blaine's mind off of what was happening around him. "He gave me something to play for you to keep you company."

Straight away, music began to be played through the speakers. The first one's intro he recognised as Bruno Mars' Count On Me, but instead of Bruno's voice seeping from the speakers, it was Kurt's. It was Kurt's voice that filled up the room, made it brighter, washed away the fear that clotted up the air and filled it with all things good and pure.

_If you ever find yourself lost in the dark and you can't see__. __I'll be the light to guide you..._

The words were so true. Kurt was his light. Without him, he'd still be stuck in the same place. Unable to move forward. Unable to see that one day things were going to be different. But Kurt showed him, guided him...

_You'll always have my shoulder when you cry__. __I'll never let go, never say goodbye..._

Blaine smiled, blinking away his tears as Kurt's voice washed over him, calming him. The whole thing seemed a lot less scarier now, a lot less daunting. The rest of the half hour flew by with a mixtape full of musical soundtracks, which primarily consisted of West Side Story and Wicked, their favourite musicals that they had both seen on Broadway that Summer.

Leaving the room at the end of the session, Blaine carried himself with a straighter back and a broader smile from when he entered. He settled himself down into his chair, just as Kurt appeared by his shoulder leaning against the wall, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"Have fun?" he teased, reaching an arm out to retrieve his disc from the nurse as she trotted past down the corridor, a knowing look on her face.

Grabbing him by his forearms, Blaine dragged Kurt into his lap, careful to avoid his knee. Kurt let out a squeak in surprise as he fell and wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck to prevent himself from falling off of his knees.

"Blaine! What was that for?" Kurt cried, his voice higher than usual. His fingers dug tightly into Blaine's skin between his shoulder blades, a flush high on his cheekbones. He secretly relished the fact that he was perched on the boy he liked's lap but pushed the thought away quickly before he done something embarrassing, e.g. giggle like a pre-teen girl.

"To hug you!" came Blaine's muffled reply where his head was hidden in Kurt's chest. He pulled the boy in tighter, his arms secured around his waist as his fingers absently played with the hem of his shirt. "Thank you, Kurt. You can always count on me too."

Pressing a soft kiss to his scalp, Kurt smiled to himself as he rubbed Blaine's back lightly with his palms. "I know, Blaine. I know. You'll always have me. I'll never let you go."

He felt Blaine nod against his chest and drew him in closer. And they sat like that for a while, nurses and patients alike passing them by with questioning looks on their faces, not quite understanding the love that both felt for each other, not quite understand the importance for them both to stop now and again just to cling to each other and to let them know that they'd be there. Forever.

Gracefully, Kurt climbed from Blaine's lap and moved behind him to grab at his handle bars. "C'mon, you. Let's get you upstairs for your chemo. You're probably giving Sarah heart palpitations, wondering if you've fallen over in the lift or something."

With a laugh, he sat up in the chair and pointed to the lift, much like someone directing their troops into battle. "Onwards and upwards! With speed!"

And so they did. They didn't stop laughing the whole way down the corridor, only laughing harder when the nurses began to shout and when Blaine nearly collided with the vending machine. But it was okay, everything was okay and they were okay.

Everything was going to be okay.


	11. ONE FINAL AUTHOR'S NOTE

**One final author's note**

**Hello,**

**If you're reading this… I'm sorry. Right now is the moment that I have officially decided to abandon this multi-chapter.**

**A lot of you probably lost hope a long time ago over it. I've gotten reviews since, private messages begging me to continue, lots more followers and what not since. But I had hope still that one day I could continue with this piece of work.**

**I struggled since the start with the fic. But that's not to say that I didn't love every minute of it. I have had a half written document sitting on my computer that has been slowly added to and deleted over the year to the point where it has a paragraph left. And I think it would be best to finally lay it to rest.**

**I'll be blunt. In this year, I was diagnosed with severe depression. This isn't me trying to throw myself a pity party but it has been a struggle and definitely the toughest thing I have faced in my entire life. Whilst I have known that I have been ill for a very, very long time (say… the better part of a decade), the past couple of years have been hard. Especially the past couple of months. I don't have a support network, my family don't even know and three months ago I moved away on my own to live my life and study in a city I had never even expressed the want to live in.**

**To sum that up, I don't particularly have the mental capabilities of continuing this fic. A lot of days I can't get myself out of bed or even feed myself, let alone consistently be creative and write. I boycotted writing for a bit. But slowly I have started writing drabbles and longer, which I am proud of myself for doing and which you can find on my Tumblr, which I will leave a link to on my profile.**

**I have decided to give you a quick lowdown on where I was planning to send the rest of this story. Just so you all know where I was going with it.**

**Blaine was going to be operated on in the next chapter. But, whilst they successfully managed to clear his knee of cancer, a scan later revealed that the cancer had travelled through his bloodstream and had spread to his lungs, which is very often seen in this type of cancer. This is the reason Blaine has been coughing. When it spreads to the lungs, there is a very high chance of dying.**

**That little notebook Blaine has been writing in is his will and funeral plans. He didn't want to burden his family with having to deal with it all on their own after he died. He also wrote letters to each and every person he loved. Kurt one of them.**

**Whilst Blaine is still under anesthetic and waiting to come to after his second operation in which the surgeons tried to remove some of the cancer from his lungs, Kurt finds the notebook open on Blaine's bedside table. Not being able to stop himself from finally looking, he finds out all of Blaine's thoughts and fears on dying, his funeral plans and a very emotional letter addressed to Kurt himself – expressing his love for the boy and the overwhelming sadness he is feeling over the fact that he would never be able to tell him and that they could never be together. Blaine awakes and finds Kurt reading his diary and explodes, telling to Kurt to get out and get away from him. Kurt flees.**

**After that, Blaine doesn't let Kurt see him for a long time. He tries to bring him flowers and tries to talk to him but Blaine isn't having it. His privacy has been invaded and he's incredibly angry with Kurt. It's the only piece of secrecy he has been granted and Kurt has betrayed him.**

**One day, Kurt comes across Blaine in a music room on the children's ward. Blaine is sat at the piano, playing a heartbreaking version of The Cab's Living Louder (which I felt was wonderfully perfect and fitting and you should search for it on YouTube to see why). Kurt slips away when it's over without talking to Blaine, giving Blaine some space.**

**Eventually, Blaine lets Kurt back in. He's had more surgery, yet every time they operate, there's more tumors than before. They plan to operate a few more times before finally deeming that Blaine is terminal if the cancer won't go with the combination of radiotherapy, chemotherapy and surgery.**

**Knowing they don't have much time left, Kurt confronts the elephant in the room and finally tells Blaine how he feels about him in return. They sing As Long As You're Mine to each other from Wicked because the lyrics are so fitting for them. They spend the whole night kissing and crying in Blaine's hospital bed.**

**In Blaine's last ever surgery, the doctors are shocked to see that the tumors have shrunk from Blaine's treatment. They continue radio and chemo, in hopes that it's working, to find that Blaine is miraculously getting better. Scan after scan shows that the tumors have greatly shrunk. One extra surgery sees the doctors managing to remove the tumors from Blaine's lungs completely. He gets more treatment to make sure it's gone and then…**

**Test after test after test after test after test after month after month after month after month finally find Blaine in remission. The cancer is gone.**

**There's a high chance it could return someday afterwards and he might not be so lucky the next time round. But Blaine has been given extra time and given him one big opportunity to live that time with the boy that he loves with all of his heart.**

**The end.**

**I wish I could have written this. I wish I had. I wish I will. But I know that it will never happen. So here you are, this is for you my faithful followers. Thank you for every favourite, every review, every follow. Thank you for your love, your faith, your hope and your encouragement. I could not have hoped for better readers than you and I love you all with all of my heart.**

**Thank you for giving me the chance and thank you for reading the very few chapters that I have managed to spew out.**

**This is for you.**

**Lucy**


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